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lRoj;tMrgl)e  BallaUS. 



[In  fac-simile,  from  a   Conieniporary,  Broadside  :    see  p.   624.] 

"  With  my  own  power  my  Majesty  they  wound, 
In  the  King's  name  the  King  himself's  uncrown'd: 
So  doth  the  Dust  destroy  the  Diamond." — Charles  I,  p.  620. 

That  thence  the  Royal  Actor  borne, 
The  tragic  scaffold  might  adorn, 

While  'round  the  armed  bands 

Did  clap  their  bloody  hands  : 
He  nothing  common  did,  or  mean, 
Upon  that  memorable  scene, 

But  with  his  keener  eye 

The  axe's  edge  did  try ; 
Nor  call'd  the  Gods,  with  vulgar  spite, 
To  vindicate  his  helpless  right : 

But  bowed  his  comely  head, 

Down,  as  upon  a  bed." — [Marvel's  Ode,  p.  61S.) 


Bflltwatmg  tge  last  gcarg  of  tge  £>tuart0* 



J.    WOODFALL   EBSWORTH,    M.A.,   Cantab.,   F.S.A. 

Author   of   '  Karl's   Legacy,'   1868,    and    '  Cavalier  Lyrics,'    1888 ; 

Editor  of  four  reprinted  '  Drolleries  '  of  the  Restoration  ; 

of  'The  Bagford  Ballads'  and  'Amanda  Group  of 

Bagford  Poems  '  ;  '  The  Two  Earliest  Quartos 

of  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,   1600  '  ; 

'  The  Poems  of  Thomas  Carew,'  1893  ; 



Croups  of  QTratics  antj  Sports,  of  Cupiti  Ballatis,  of  fHatrimomal 

anto  3Cnti=fHatn'mom'aI ;  of  fKcrrg  ^fofontureg,  TOiIIofo=Crccn, 

3Lo&e's  ilHisrijanccs,  Complaints,  ant)  QTom  trjc  Baylor ; 

Nautical,  historical,  antj  Cfjristmas  Carols. 

Falslaff.—"An  I  have  not    Ballads  made  on  you  all,   and  sung  to  filthy  tunes,  let  a  cup 
of  Sack  be  my  poison."— Henry  IV,  Part  I,  ii.  2. 


Printen  for  t&e  iBaliati  ^ocietp, 





preface  to  Wol.  OT. 

"  Will  had  promis'd  Ms  Sue  that  this  trip,  if  well  ended, 
Should  coil  up  his  hopes,  and  he'd  anchor  on  shore ; 
"When  his  pockets  were  lined,  why,  his  life  should  be  mended, 
The  laws  he  had  broken  he'd  never  break  more  ! " 

—  Will  Watch,  the  bold  Smuggler. 

l(£sSM$^5k  HE  completion  of  this  Seventh  Volume  of  Roxlurghe 

T^&K^paj  Ballads  finds  us  so  near  the  end  of  our  work  that  we 

t)   <3m  ialt   nee(i  not  hesitate  to  ask  our  subscribers  and  readers  to 

<§j-  aid  our  final  endeavours,  so  that  what  remains  to  be 

©S^>        done  by  the  Editor  and  Printers  maybe  done  thoroughly, 

and  no  flaw  of  incompleteness  mar  the  whole. 

The  next  Part  (XXIII)  should  certainly  contain  the  last 
remaining  Ninety  of  the  ballads.  The  General  Index  to  the  entire 
lloxburghe  Collection,  as  here  edited  (total  of  about  5,500  pp.  8vo, 
with  innumerable  Notes  on  all  varieties  of  historical  and  social 
details),  will  wind  up  the  long  and  valuable  series.  If  life  remains  to 
us,  nothing  but  the  absence  of  funds  should  delay  completion. 
,  In  the  present  volume  we  give  no  less  than  three  hundred  and 
seventy  Ballads  and  Songs,  not  more  than  a  hundred  remain 
to  be  printed  —  and  one-third  of  a  volume  will  suffice  to  hold 
them.     This  ought  to  be  ready  early  in  1894. 

Wc  can  appeal  to  the  Contents  of  Yolume  Seven  in  justification 
of  our  previous  promises,  and  also  to  the  successful  grouping  of 
the  ballads  for  their  mutual  illustration  :  more  especially  the 
bringing  into  their  legitimate  connection  the  various  lost  ballads, 
antecedent  and  sequels,  which  had  left  the  original  collection 
of  broadsides  so  fragmentary.  Many  that  had  been  utterly  lost, 
after  having  once  belonged  to  the  Harleian  and  Pearson  Collections 
(see  p.  571),  are  here  given  back  to  the  world,  although  they 
vanished  without  becoming  Boxburghe  and  Bright  property. 

With  a  "  Group  of  Ballads  on  Trades  and  Sports  "  our  Vol.  VII 
begins,  and  to  this  succeeds  "A  Group  of  Cupid  Ballads;"  and, 
as  wedlock  extends  farther  than  courtship,  a  still  larger  "Group 
of  Matrimonial  Ballads,"  including  many  mischances  owing  to 
shrews  and  perverse  womenkind  who  neglect  to  obey  the  seventh 
commandment.  The  Nineteenth  Century,  with  its  numerous 
Glass-houses,  cannot  afford  to  fling  stones  at  the  seventeenth 
century  on  the  score  of  public  or  private  scandals.  With  Ben 
Jonson's  '  Cock-Lorrell '  Banquet  at  the  Peak  of  Derbyshire,  and 
a  few  other  ditties,  intervening,  we  reach  (on  p.  241)  a  "  Group  of 
Merry  Adventures,"  such  as  Osric  might  pronounce  to  be  '  very 
dear  to  fancy,'    and  these   are   followed  by  some  Ballads  on  the 

viii  The  Contents  of  this  Seventh  Volume. 

1  Wearing  of  the  green'  willow,  and  others  on  'Love's  Mischances,' 
beside  several  'Complaints'  and  mishaps  of  Tom  the  Tailor.  "A 
Second  Group  of  Nautical  Ballads,"  later  in  date  than  those  given 
in  Volume  Sixth,  is  continued  far  into  our  third  instalment;  but 
the  good,  genial  Stephen  Austin,  senior,  to  whom  they  were 
dedicated,  has  been  lost  to  us.  He  joined  the  great  majority 
whilst  the  sheets  were  passing  through  the  press. 

Other  deaths  have  fallen  grievously  on  the  Ballad  Society,  and 
we  mourn  the  death  of  such  staunch  friends  and  supporters  as 
the  late  Frederick  Cousens,  F.S.A. ;  Brinsley  Nicholson,  M.D. ; 
James  Stock  Mitchell,  Esq.  (mentioned  affectionately  on  p.  39), 
and  that  unrivalled  student  of  Scottish  Song,  John  Muir  Wood — 
whom  we  last  beheld  at  home  in  Glasgow,  August,  1888. 

The  remainder  of  the  volume  is  devoted  chiefly  to  two  "  Groups 
of  Historical  Ballads,"  first  on  Thomas  Stukeley,  Dick  "Whittington, 
the  Lady  Arabella  Stewart  or  Seymour,  the  early  duellists  Steward 
and  Wharton,  with  Armstrong  and  Musgrave  in  rivalry  for  Lady 
Dacre's  daughter;  and  the  long- promised  Civil  War  Ballads,  few 
of  which  had  been  hitherto  reprinted  and  attainable.  These  lead 
ns  on,  by  the  Escape  of  Charles  II,  to  the  Restoration  ditties, 
laudation  of  General  Monk,  and  a  few  additions  to  our  store 
celebrating  the  last  of  the  crowned  Stuarts.  The  "  Second  Historical 
Group"  holds  ballads  on  William  and  Mary,  ending  with  her  death, 
after  including  a  goodly  array  of  Maiden  Warriors,  Female 
Drummers,  and  She-Soldiers,  of  the  approved  unsexed  pattern, 
such  as  delight  a  new  '  shrieking  sisterhood.'  Purloining  of 
other  folks'  laurels  was  attempted  unblushingly  to  grace  Orange 
Queen  Mary ;  we  see  also  old  legends  concerning  the  '  gude-man  of 
Ballangeich,'  King  James  of  Cramond  Brig  renown  (the  first  King 
James  of  Scotland),  served  up  anew,  crambe  repetita,  bis  cocta,  as 
'  lloyal  Recreation  ;  or,  King  William's  Merriment.'  All  three 
Parts  are  given  here  :  now  restored  to  circulation. 

A  "Group  of  Christmas  Carols,"  none  hitherto  reprinted  except 
the  favourite  'God  rest  you,  merry  gentlemen!'  forms  the 
appropriate  finale.  He  must  be  hard  to  please,  and  not  one  who 
'loves  a  ballad  in  print,  even  too  well,'  who  finds  our  Seventh 
Volume  distasteful.   We  propitiate  him  here  with  'Death  and  the  Lady.' 

Three  or  four  distinct  issues  are  represented  in  the  Trowbesh  Collection,  some 
adorned  with  a  large  woodcut,  divided  from  top  to  toe  by  a  black  line,  leaving 
half  a  Skeleton  on  one  side,  and  half  of  a  richly-robed  Lady  on  the  other. 
To  this  seventeenth-century  ballad  our  woodcut,  on  p.  466,  had  once  belonged. 

[The  Roxburghe  "White -letter  reprint  is  much  later  than  the  original  Black-letter 
broadsides:  Exemplar  in  white-letter  preserved  by  Anthony  ii  Wood,  417, 
fob  129,  was  printed  for  /.  Beacon  ;  Douce's,  III.  34,  has  no  tune  marked; 
Douce,  IV.  46  (sub-title  '  Life  and  Death  contrasted  ')  is  a  Pitts  Press,  Seven- 
Dials  slip.  '  A  True  and  Tragical  Song  concerning  Captain  John  Bolton,' 
beginning  "Good  Christian  people  all,  both  young  and  old"  (Roxb.  Coll., 
111.  4513),  of  dale  1775,   to  the  tune  of  Fair  Lady,  lay  your  costly  roots  aside. 


[Roxburghe  Coll.,  III.  442;  Wood,  417,  129:  Lincl.,  371 ;  Douce,  Madden.] 

£{je  <$reat  s^eftsenget  of  e^ottalitp; 

<©r,  &  ©talogue  fcetfatrt  ©catfj  ant)  a  3Lafog. 

From  whence  it  appears  that  Death  is  no  Respecter  of  Persons,  either  for  Birth 
or  Beauty  ;  so  that,  as  sure  as  we  are  born ,  we  shall  certainly  die  :  Therefore 
let  us  prepare  ourselves  against  that  Hour  and  Time,  that  he  may  appear  as  a 
welcome  Messenger  [who]  brings  glad  tidings. 

Tune  of,  Fareivel,  my  Heart's  Delight.  [This  indicates  the  first  line  of  'Two 
Faithful  Lovers  ;'  for  which  see  Bagford  Ballads,  p.  471.] 

DEATH. — "  T?Air  Lady,  lay  your  costly  Robes  aside  ! 

JJ      No  longer  may  you  glory  in  your  Pride. 
Take  leave  of  all  your  carnal  vain  Delight, 
For  I  am  come  to  summon  you  this  night." 

L A DY.—"  What  bold  attempt  is  this  ?     Pray  let  me  know 
From  whence  you  come,  and  whither  I  must  go, 
Shall  I  who  am  a  Lady  yield  or  bow 
To  such  a  pale-faced  visage  ?    Who  art  thou ? "  8 

DEATH. — "  Do  you  not  know  me  ?    Well,  I'll  tell  you,  then, 
'  Tis  I  that  conquers  all  the  sons  of  M  en. 
No  pitch  of  Honour  from  my  Dart  is  free, 
My  name  is  Death,  have  you  not  heard  of  me?" 

LADY. — "  Yes,  I  have  heard  of  thee,  time  after  time. 
But  being  in  the  glory  of  my  prime, 
I  did  not  think  thou  would' st  have  come  so  soon  : 
Why  must  my  Morning  Sun  be  turn'd  to  Noon  P"  16 

DEATH. — "Talk  not  of  noon.     Thou  may'st  as  well  be  mute, 
This  is  no  time  at  all  for  to  dispute. 
Your  richest  jewels,  gold,  and  garments  brave, 
Your  houses,  lands,  they  must  new  masters  have. 
Tho'  thy  vain  heart  to  Riches  has  inclin'd, 
Yet  thou,  alas  !  must  leave  it  all  behind.  22 

LADY. — "  My  heart  is  cold,  I  tremble  at  the  news, 

Here's  bags  of  Gold,  if  thou  wilt  me  excuse, 
And  seize  on  those,  thus  finish  thou  the  strife, 
With  such,  who  are  now  weary  of  their  life. 
Are  there  not  many  bound  in  Prison  strong, 
In  bitter  grief  of  Soul  have  languish'd  long  ? 
And  fain  would  find  a  grave,  a  place  of  Rest, 
From  all  their  griefs,  in  which  they  are  oppress'd. 
Besides,  there's  many  with  their  hoary  head. 
And  palsied  joints,  by  which  their  joys  are  fled, 
Release  thou  them,  whose  grief  and  sorrow's  great, 
And  spare  my  life  to  have  a  longer  date."  34 

DEATH.— "  Tho'  they  with  Age  are  full  of  grief  and  pain, 
Till  their  appointed  time  they  must  remain. 
I  come  to  none  before  my  Warrant's  seal'd  : 
And  when  it  is,  they  must  submit  and  yield. 

I  take  no  Bribe  ;  believe  me  it  is  true, 

Prepare  yourself  to  go,  I  come  for  you."  40 

A  Dialogue  betwixt  Deatli  and  the  Lady. 

LADY. — "  Deatli  be  not  so  severe  !  let  me  obtain 
A  little  longer  time  to  live  and  reign. 
Fain  would  I  stay,  if  tbou  my  life  would  spare, 
I  have  a  Daughter  beautiful  and  fair  [N.B. 

I'd  live  to  see  her  wed  whom  I  adore, 

Grant  me  but  this,  and  then  I  ask  no  more."  46 

IJEATH. — "  This  is  a  slender  frivolous  excuse, 

I  have  you  fast,  and  will  not  let  you  loose. 

Leave  her  to  Providence,  for  you  must  go 

Along  with  me,  whether  you  will  or  no. 

I,  Death,  command  great  Kings  to  leave  their  Crown, 

And  at  my  foot  they  lay  their  Scepters  down. 

If  not  to  kings  I  will  this  favour  give, 

But  cut  them  down,  can  you  expect  to  live 

Beyond  the  limits  of  your  time  and  space  ? 

No,  I  must  send  you  to  another  place."  56 

LADY. — "  You  learned  Doctors  now  display  your  skill, 
And  let  not  Death  of  me  obtain  his  will. 
Prepare  vour  cordials,  let  me  comfort  find, 
My  Gold  shall  fly  like  chaff  before  the  wind."  CO 

DEATH.—1'  Forbear  to  call,  their  skill  will  never  do, 
They  are  but  Mortals  here  as  well  as  you  ; 
1  give  the  fatal  wound,  my  Dart  is  sure, 
"fis  tar  beyond  a  doctor's  skill  to  cure. 
To  purchase  life,  rather  than  yield  to  die, 
How  freely  would  you  let  your  silver  fly  ; 
But  while  you  flourish'd  here,  all  in  your  store, 
You  could  not  spare  one  penny  for  the  Poor. 
In  all  your  pomp,  the  Poor  then  you  did  hate, 
And,  like  rich  Dives,  scourg'd  them  from  your  Gate  ; 
But  tho'  you  did,  those  whom  you  thus  did  scorn, 
They  like  your  self  into  this  world  was  born. 
Tho'  for  your  Alms  they  both  did  cringe  and  bow, 
They  bore  God's  Image  here  as  well  as  you  ; 
Tho',  in  his  Name,  a  Suit  to  you  they'd  make, 
You  would  not  give  one  penny  for  his  sake. 

My  Lord  beheld  wherein  you  did  amiss, 

And  calls  you  hence,  to  give  Account  for  this."  78 

LADY. — "  0  heavy  News  !  must  I  no  longer  stav  P 

How  shall  I  stand,  good  God,  at  that  great  Day?  " 

Down  from  her  eyes  her  dying  tears  did  flow, 

And  said,  "  There's  none  knows  what  I  undergo : 

Upon  a  Bed  of  Sorrow  here  I  lie, 

M  y  carnal  life  makes  me  afraid  to  die, 

My  sins,  alas  !  are  many,  gross,  and  foul, 

But  Heaven  still  have  mercy  on  my  Soul ! 

And  tho'  I  do  deserve  Thy  righteous  frown, 

Yet  pardon,  Lord,  and  pour  a  Blessing  down  !  " 

Then,  with  a  dying  sigh,  her  heart  did  break, 

And  did  the  Pleasures  of  the  World  forsake. 

Here  you  may  see  the  high  and  mighty  fall, 

For  Death  he  sheweth  no  Bespect  at  all 

To  any  one,  if  high  or  low  degree, 

Great  men  submit  to  Death  as  well  as  we. 

Tho'  they  are  gay,  their  lives  are  but  a  span, 

A  Lump  of  Clay  :  so  poor  a  creature's  Man.  96 

Newcastle-upon-Tyne  :  Printed  and  sold  by  John  White. 

Of  the  published  Ballads  no  longer  extant.  xi 

We  need  not  linger  to  specify  the  many  ballads  here  brought 
back  to  the  knowledge  of  students,  after  having  been  utterly 
lost  or  forgotten  for  more  than  a  couple  of  centuries  ;  drawn  from 
obscure  manuscripts  or  unique  broadsides,  hitherto  hidden  apart. 
These  additions  are  in  general  sequels  or  antecedents,  gathered 
elsewhere.  It  has  been  a  labour  of  love,  to  make  this  work  as 
complete  as  possible,  remembering  its  enormous  bulk  and  the 
complexity  of  its  original  mis-arrangements. 

So  much  of  early  ballad  wealth  was  destroyed  amid  the  confusion 
of  the  civil  war  time  (and  political  excitement  is  always  subversive 
of  the  lighter  graces  and  tenderness  in  literature),  that  it  is  only 
after  the  Restoration  in  1660 — or  after  the  Great  Fire  in  1666,  that 
Ave  retain  the  greater  number  of  published  broadside  ballads.  Of 
earlier  times  the  entries  in  the  Registers  of  the  Stationers' 
Company  reveal  a  terrible  percentage  of  absolute  loss.  Yet  even 
these  lists  were  never  so  efficiently  made  as  to  include  more  than 
a  fraction  of  the  ballads  written  and  printed.  We  do  not  despair 
of  recovering  more  of  these,  success  having  emboldened  us.  Many 
early  ballads  remain  hidden  amid  the  packets  of  uncatalogued 
documents  in  private  collections  (we  print  one  on  p.  825) ;  although 
far  more  of  them  perished  during  the  Civil-Wars.  They  had  been 
duly  licensed  and  printed,  their  date  and  title  recorded  in  the 
Registers  of  the  Stationers'1  Company,  before  the  Long- Parliament 
sat.  Some  few  are  found,  copied  in  old  MSS.  All  were  in  danger 
of  dispersal  or  destruction  by  ignorant  servants  or  executors, 
besides  the  ordinary  mischances  of  flood  and  fire.  Many  of  the 
strayed  lambkins  we  shelter.  Of  the  other  lost-muttons  their 
titles  were  suggestive.  Francis  Coles,  on  June  28,  1624,  printed 
certain  ballads,  '  More  Sauce  than  Pig  ;'  'Oatmeal  Ho  !'  and  '  Peept 
Into.'     John  Wright  in  1632,  published  '  Foote  it,  Madam  !' 

Hitherto  lost,  but  entered  by  first  line  in  the  Stationers'  Company  Kegisters, 
as  already  old  and  transfer  property,  14  December,  1624,  now  recovered  in  MS. 
is  '  A  right  excellent  and  godly  new  Ballad,  she  wing  e  the  uncertainetye  of  this 
presente  lyfe,  the  vanitye  of  the  alluring  world,  and  the  unspeakable  joyes  of 
heaven  prepared  for  those  that  unfainedly  beleeve  in  the  Lord  Jesus.  To  the 
Tune  of  Wtgmore's  Galliard.''     Eighteen  stanzas,  this  one  being  the  first :  — 

"  All  carefull  Christians  marke  my  song, 
Consider  Death  must  ende  our  dayes, 
This  earthly  lyfe  it  is  not  long, 
And  Christ  shall  come  to  judge  our  wayes. 
The  glass  doth  run,  the  clock  doth  go, 
Awake  from  synne  :  why  sleepe  ye  so  .?  " 

Where,  except  in  the  muniment  room  of  Nirgend's  College,  or  amid 
the  Trowbesh  MSS.,  can  we  look  for  (let  us  say)  such  a  ballad 
as  was  entered  to  Symon  Stafford,  on  22  Septembris,  1606,  thus  : — 

xii  The  Lost  Ballads  and  Songs  of  1606. 

"An  Answere  to  a  fond  lascivious  Songe,  intituled,    'And  arte  thou 
comme  againe,  and  said'st  tho'tdd  come  no  more?'"  Can  it  be  this? 

Host    Labour: 

MEttlj    Pipe    anU   Ezbax. 

*' AND  a?'t  thou  come  again, 

And  said  thou  would' si  come  no  more  ?" 
Thou  to  be  free  ivert  fain  ? 
No  freedom  can  one  gain, 

Thus  lingering  at  her  door : 
Stay  not,  thou  silly  sivain, 

Wreck' d  on  the  Syren's  shore. 


Sweet  mockery  tuned  her  strain, 

Her  songs  no  blessing  bore  ; 
Bavildcring  heart  and  brain, 
They  left  a  scar  and  stain, 

On  memory  evermore  : 
Yet  art  thou  come  again, 

And  said,  "  I  come  no  more  !  " 


Love  binds  thee  with  her  chain, 

That  very  chain  I  wore, 
Who  ivarn  thee  back  in  vain, 
Knotving  the  hopeless  pain  ; 

Thy  fate  was  mine  before : 
To  come  again,  again  ! 

Yet  say,  "  We  come  no  more." 

Trowbesh  von  Nirgends. 

Sweeter  are  the  rinsings  of  the  older  Vine-press  than  the  '  small  acid  tiff '  of 
the  unripened  modern  grapes,  lately  in  fashion.  Now  here  is  a  genuine  Song 
(recovered  from  Shirbuin  MS.,  fol.  140  verso,  and  141  recto,  by  our  generous 
friend  and  helper,  the  Rev.  Andrew  Clark,  M.A.,  Fellow  of  Lincoln  College, 
Oxford,  the  learned  editor  of  '  Life  and  Times  of  Ant/tony  Wood,''  1891-94,  see 
]).  8.4).  It  fitly  accompanies  our  editorial  ditty,  and  might  have  been  sang  by 
the  Syren  therein  mentioned.  It  is  this  English  Lorelai  nymph  who  sings — 
'Wilt  thou  begone,  my  Deare  .'' 

Recovered  Ballad  of  1G06.  xiii 

milt  tfjou  &e  gone,  mp  Deare:5 

To  the  Tune  of,  Sweete  Gardiner. 

AND  wilt  thou,  my  Deare,  be  gone  ?* 
And  wilt  thou  no  longer  reniaine  ? 
Farewell,  I  can  live  alone, 
Tby  company  I  can  refraine. 
If  it  be  your  favour 
Thus  for  to  waver, 
Goe,  goe  ! 
And  never  come  to  me  againe. 

I  scorne  for  thy  love  to  sue, 

My  thoughts  do  detest  the  same ; 
I  am  as  well  resolved  as  you, 
And  as  little  I  doe  complaine. 
If  it  be  your  favour 
Thus  for  to  waver, 
Goe,  goe ! 
And  never  come  to  me  againe. 

These  follyes  you  will  repent, 

When  dreames  have  possest  your  braine, 
And  in  your  false  armes,  discontent, 
Yow  will  wish  me,  your  lover,  againe  ; 
But  when  your  lypps  misses 
My  wonted  kisses, 

Ton  know,  [caret. 

Fain  would  you  come  to  me  againe. 

Then  kisse  me,  nor  clasp  niee  no  more, 
Nor  coll  mee,  nor  court  me  in  vaiue  ; 
You  might  this  have  knowne,  before, 

To  have  kist  mee,  and  with  me  have  laine. 
But  now,  adue, 
An'  when  it  please  you  : 
Soe  goe  ! 
And  never  come  to  me  againe. 

iFifttg.  [Author  unknown  ;  of  date  circa  1606.] 

*  MS.  mis-reads,  "And  wilt  thou  be  gone,  my  deare  ?  "  losing  the  rhyme. 

In  a  Rawl.  MS.,  that  had  once  belonged  to  Dorothy  Halford,  is  held  'A  Prety 
Song  to  ye  tune  of,  Legoranto '  (query,  Le  Coranto  ?) : — 

^Hose  passions  here  which  I  professe, 
Good  Sir,  requires  great  cost. 
I  pray  you  make  not  so  much  haste, 
Lest  that  your  love  be  lost. 
When  Summer  is  going,  then  Winter  is  coming  a-pace. 
I  you  advise,  if  you  be  wise 
In  tynie  to  stay  your  chase."  [Ten  stanzas  follow. 

In  the  same  MS.,  solely,  is  preserved  that  identical  ballad  of  'England's 
Triumph,'  which  had  been  entered  to  John  Danter  in  Stationers'  Registers, 
20  Novembris,  1595,  viz. :  — 

A  proper  new  ballade,  wherein  is  plaine  to  be  seene 
How  God  blesseth  England  for  love  of  our  Queene. 


xiv  Other  Ballad-texts  regained  from  MSS. 

Sung  to  the  Tune  of  Tarletorf  s  Carroll. 


iONDON,  London,  singe  and  praise  thy  Lord, 
Let  England's  Joy  be  seene  ; 
Trew  subjects  quickly  show,  with  one  accorde, 
Your  love  unto  your  Queene, 
Elizabeth  so  brave : 
Whose  vertues  rare  beseeme  her  well, 
From  all  the  world  she  bears  the  bell, 
Her  due  deserts  no  tongue  can  tell, 
Herselfe  she  doth  behave 
That  all  the  world  doth  marvell  much 
How  Nature  should  frame  anie  such. 
Of  vice  none  lyving  can  her  touch.  [Nine  twelve-line  stanzas. 

Mistress  Dorothy  Halford  may  have  been  as  fair  as  "Waller's  Dorothy  Sidney 
('  Sacharissa')  or  more  lovable  than  the  later  Dorothy  Osborne.  She  was  not 
so  prudish  as  to  reject  from  her  manuscript  either  of  the  two  jocular  ditties, 
Mother  Wat  kin's  Ale  or  The  Carman's  Whistle,  preserving  thus  distinct  early 
versions  of  each.  They  differ  from  the  16th  century  (before  1592),  B.-L.  broad- 
side of  '  A  Ditty  Delightful  of  Mother  Watkin!  s  Ale,  A  Warning  well  weigh'd, 
though  counted  a  tale,'  which  begins,  lengthily,  "  There  was  a  maid  this  other 
day,  and  she  would  needs  go  forth  to  play ;  and  as  she  walk'd  she  sith'd  [  =  sigh'd] 
and  said  'I  am  afraid  to  die  a  mayd.'"  The  Kawl.  MS.  185,  fol.  14,  holds 
six  sixteen-line  stanzas,  beginning  thus  :  — 

AS  Watkin  walked  by  the  way, 
He  met  a  Lass,  and  made  her  stay, 
"  Faire  maide,"  quoth  he,  "  Go  you  with  me, 
And  Watkin's  Ale  I  will  give  thee." 

She  did  not  him  deuie,  but  went  forth  merrily, 

And  thank' d  him  heartily,  for  his  good  merry  tale. 

Watkin,  perceiving  then,  that  she  did  love  a  man, 

With  pleasant  talk  began  to  walk  along  the  dale. 

She  stept  aside  then  out  of  sigbt, 

(What  they  did  more  let  Venus  right,)  [text, '  Wrigh.' 

But  as  it  seemed  a  pretty  tale,  he  gave  her  well  of  Watkin'' s  Ale. 

Of  the  sixteenth-century  Black-letter  broadside  a  unique  exemplar  was  formerly 
preserved.  It  came  into  the  hands  of  George  Daniel,  of  18,  Cauonbury  Square; 
and  by  auction-sale,  in  1864,  into  those  of  the  late  Henry  Huth,  who  gave  the 
full  text  to  the  l'liilobiblon  Society,  in  1867.  It  is  the  liveliest  ditty  in  his 
Collection  of  Seventy-nine  '■Ancient  Ballads,''  which  contains  also  '  The  Faire 
Widow  of  Watling- Street  '  (see  our  p.  826),  with  which  we  begin  Vol.  VIII. 

The  other  (fol.  21)  is  'A  Pleasant  new  Sonnge  called  '  The  Carman's  Whistle  ; ' 
to  the  tune  of,  '0  Neighbor  lioberle.'     Thirteen  eight-line  stanzas. 

IN  a  pleasant  morninge,  in  the  merrie  month  of  May, 
Amounge  the  frutefull  meddowes  a  young  man  took  his  way. 
And  gazing  rounde  about  him,  what  pleasures  he  could  see, 
He  spied  a  proper  maiden,  under  an  Oaken  tree. 

Comely  was  her  countenance,  and  lovely  was  her  lookes, 
Seeming  that  wanton  Venus  had  writ  her  in  her  bookes ; 
Many  a  smirking  smile  she  lent,  amidst  those  meddowes  greene, 
The  which  he  well  perceived,  yet  was  of  her  unseen.     Etc. 

What  we  promise  for  the  Final  Part.  xv 

This  is  probably  the  original,  certainly  a  much  earlier  version  than  the 
common  B.-L.  broadside,  printed  for  W.  Onley,  entitled, '  The  Courteous  Carman 
and  the  Amorous  Maid  ;  or,  the  Carman's  Whistle,'  which  begins : — 

"  As  I  abroad  was  walking,  by  the  breaking  of  the  day, 
Into  a  pleasant  meadow,  a  young  man  took  his  way, 
And  looking  round  about  him,  to  mark  what  he  could  see, 
At  length  lie  spied  a  fair  Maid,  under  a  myrtle-tree."    Etc. 

(Oddly  enough,  these  two  ballads  conjointly  in  the  same  MS.  were  also  name*! 
together  by  one  T.N.  in  a  letter  to  Anthony  Munday,  prefixed  to  Gerileon  of 
^England,  1592 — "  I  should  hardly  be  persuaded  that  one  professor  of  so 
excellent  a  science  [as  printing]  would  be  so  impudent  to  print  such  ribauldrie 
as  JFatJciu's  Ale,  The  Carman'' s  Whistle,  and  sundry  such  others."  Evidently  this 
Tom  Noddy's  bear  refused  to  dance  to  any  but  the  very  genteelest  of  tunes; 
although  Wafer  parted  and  the  Minuet  in  Ariadne  were  still  in  futuro.) 

Enough  said,  as  to  manuscript  copies  of  old  ballads  having  been  hidden  from 
view,  but  not  wholly  lost.  Every  fresh  discovery  aids  the  work  ;  the  interchange  of 
tune-names  also  had  hitherto  caused  confusion,  and  slovenly  ignorance  had  been 
rampant,  suiting  well  enough  a  slovenly  auditory  of  critics  and  public.  "  Beefy 
face  and  grubby  hand  !  Law,  what  can  they  understand."  Not  to  them  we  appeal. 

"  Good  wine  needs  no  bush"  hung  outside  the  door,  our  ancestors 
declared,  but  in  these  days  of  expensive  advertising  and  be-puffety 
our  modest  Editorial  venture,  long  continued,  has  suffered  grievously 
by  lack  of  funds,  from  the  total  absence  of  any  means  to  make  it 
known  :  except  the  warm  appreciative  laudation  so  kindly  given, 
from  time  to  time,  in  the  Athenceum  and  Notes  and  Queries.  Few 
of  the  established  subscribers  became  weary,  although  some  neglected 
promptitude  and  regularity  of  payment.  Alas !  it  has  been  Death 
who  has  been  the  most  unrelenting  foe,  mowing  down  our  friends 
without  mercy.  We  dare  not  here  chronicle  the  losses,  so  many 
now  fail  to  answer  Adsum  to  the  Roll-Call.  Our  own  turn  to 
be  silent  may  he  near  but  we  strive  to  complete — in  one  more 
Part — these  Roxlurghe  Ballads. 

"The  Third  Group  of  Nautical  Ballads,"  concluding  them,  will  be 
found  rich  in  memorials  of  our  naval  victories  under  Admirals 
Vernon,  Matthews,  and  Keppel ;  with  Lord  Belhaven's  disastrous 
voyage,  and  sundry  pirates  or  misadventurers,  Captain  Green, 
Captain  Glen,  and  the  renowned  Paul  Jones  of  1779.  Of  executions 
we  have  five  ballads,  including  Mistress  Arden  of  Faversham,  1606, 
Luke  Hutton,  1595,  George  Barnwell,  before  1624,  William 
Grismond,  and  George  Saunders :    mild  hangings,  not  beheadings. 

There  are  also  'Warnings'  and  'Strange  Events';  a  "Group 
of  Romantic  Ballads,"  and  the  conclusion  of  our  '  Beligious  Group.' 
A  few  lively  ditties  on  the  rogueries  of  millers,  the  annoyances 
given  by  mothers-in-law,  and  broad  humour  of  cockney-Scotch 
dialect;  a  short  "Group  of  Queen  Anne's  Reign,"  and  a  still 
smaller  one  of  '  Robin  Hood  Ballads,'  with  the  few  '  Sempill 
Ballads '  belonging  to  our  Collection,  will  furnish  sufficient  variety. 

xvi  Editorial  Promises  and  Forewarning^. 

The  opportunity  may  be  used  to  add  a  few  necessary  Appendix 
Notes  to  Vols.  I  and  II  to  supply  omissions  and  late  discoveries 
to  the  entire  work.  Without  a  full  Index  it  would  be  shorn  of 
half  its  value.  We  have  not  delayed  the  numerous  Civil  War  and 
Commonwealth  Ballads,  belonging  to  the  Iioxburghe  and  Bagford 
Collections,  beyond  this  Volume  Seven  (see  p.  611).  We  secure 
them  at  once,  here,  although  this  makes  the  extra  Part  XXIII 
indispensable,  to  complete  the  series. 

We  are  in  sight  of  Victory,  and  fearlessly  make  this  last 
Voyage.  Have  we  not  .1  willing  crew  who  trust  us  to  the  end? 
That  end  -ought  not  to  be  long  delayed,  life  being  so  uncertain, 
therefore  we  desire  to  press  onward.  (See  Finale  on  p.  817.) 
We  are  unwilling  to  abandon  the  ship  and  leave  it  derelict,  or 
to  let  any  pickarooning  pirate  run  us  down  to  Davy  Jones's 
Locker.  There  is,  however,  something  of  evil  omen  in  a  foretold 
'last  vovage;'  like  the  one  in  our  motto  from  Thomas  Cory's 
'  Will  Watch  the  bold  smuggler '  of  1 806  '  Hospitality:  With 
Hamlet,  '  we  defy  augury  :  There  is  special  providence  in  the 
fall  of  a  sparrow.' 

&tif  atoning* 

T^RIEND,  why  shrink  from  what  lies  before  us  ? 
Since  all  is  well,  tho'  the  end  draw  near. 
Lonely  the  path  winds,  silenced  the  chorus, 

Darker  the  sky  and  the  woodland  sere. 
Need  the  far  distance  so  much  affright  thee  : 

Hast  thou  not  quaff' d  of  rapture  thy  share? 
Here,  the  feast  palls,  no  more  to  delight  thee; 
Why  should  zve  dread  what  is  waiting  there  ? 

Few  are  the  Guests  ivho  with  thirst  unsated 

Drain  the  last  drops  fro m  their  cup  of  foy  ; 
Many  sped  hence,  early-call' d  or  belated, 

Glad  to  depart  ere  the  banquet  cloy. 
Fresh  as  of  yore  smiles  Nature,  caressing ; 

Of  our  men  alone  the  neiv  ways  repell : 
Death  surely  bringeth  Life  s  choicest  blessing, 

Sweetest  ofivelcomes,  our  funeral-knell. 

Joseph  Woodfall  Ebsworth. 
Molash  Priory,  Ashford,  Kent,  1893. 


*#*  Note  on  a  iaoobcut,  tTje '  Strange  Banquet/ 

for  p.  220. 

INAPPROPRIATE  though  it  had  been  for  '  The  Devil's  Entertainment  by 
Cock  Laurel,  at  the  Peak  of  Derbyshire,'  1621,  the  woodcut  shows  'A  Strange 
Banquet,'  for  1637,  since  all  the  men  wear  their  blue-bonnets  or  steeple-crowned 
beavers  while  clustered  around  the  crowned  king  who  holds  a  bag  of  money. 
It  was  used  also  for  a  broadside  reprint  of  '  The  Story  of  111  May-day,'  re- 
presenting Prentices  with  Charles  I,  instead  of  Henry  VIII.   The  ballad  begins — 

"  Peruse  the  story  of  this  Land,  and  with  aduisement  note  the  same, 
And  you  shall  iustly  vnderstand  how  111  May-day  first  got  the  name. 
For  when  King  Henry  Eight  did  raigne,  and  rulde  our  famous  kingdome  here, 
His  royall  Queene  he  had  from  Spain,  with  whome  he  lived  full  many  a  yere. 

"  Queene  Katherine,  as  our  stories  tell,  sometime  had  been  his  brother's  wife, 
By  which  vnlawfull  marriage  fell  an  endlesse  trouble  during  life."     Etc. 

'  111  May-day,'  1.517,  reappeared  among  the  '  Broadside  Black-letter  Hal 'ads,' 
(privately  reprinted  in  1868,  by  the  late  John  Payne  Collier,  F.S.A.),  with  a 
fac-simile  of  a  debased  copy  of  the  woodcut,  and  a  supplementary  half-stanza, 
supposed  to  refer  to  King  Charles  I  (here  italicized  and  square-bracketted)  :  — 

"  So  now  hencefoorth  we  need  tofeare  no  such  mishap  as  they  [Prentices']  did  bring, 
But  peace  and  order  euerie  where,  and  loyal  harts  vnto  ovr  King." 

He  asserted,  "  No  doubt,  when  the  broadside  first  came  out  Queen  Elizabeth 
was  reigning,  and  was  celebrated  at  the  close;  this  portion  was  omitted  in  1607, 
because  King  James  was  then  on  the  throne ;  but  when  [Thomas']  Gosson  reprinted 
the  ballad,  about  1630  or  1640,  he  made  the  conclusion  complimentary  to 
Charles  I.  No  copy  is  known  which  contains  the  tribute  to  Elizabeth,  and 
which  must  have  appeared  about  1597  or  1598."     But  dear  old  J.  P.  C.  mistook 

xviii      Additional  Note  ox  'Earl  of  Essex's  last  Good-Night.' 

this  matter.  1st.  His  broadside  is  lost  from  view,  not  traceable.  2nd.  It  was 
stated  to  boar  the  colophon,  '  Printed  for  Thomas  Gosson;'  but  Thomas  died  in 
1614,  seven  years  after  the  ballad  had  appeared  iu  the  1G07  edition  of  Strangle 
Histories  (without  the  supplementary  hall-stanza),  and  fourteen  before  Charles  I 
came  to  the  throne.  3rd.  His  May-day  woodcut  is  a  grossly-debased  copy  of 
the  better  one  here  engraved  :  how  could  the  May-day  copy  precede  the  original  ? 
4th.  The  costumes  are  of  a  later  date  than  16*14  ;  they  belong  to  the  time  <.f 
Charles,  whose  portrait  is  indicated,  not  James  I.  5th.  Disproving  the  possibility 
of  any  issue  dining  Elizabeth's  reign,  the  tune  is  marked,  '  Essex's  lust  Good- 
night;' viz.,  the  ballad,  "All  you  that  cry  0  hone!  0  hone!'1''  (reprinted  in 
vol.  i,  p.  571),  which  was  not  registered  to  Margaret  Allde  for  publication  until 
18th  May,  1603:  two  months  after  the  death  of  Elizabeth. 

An  earlier  name  for  the  Essex  Good-night  tune  had  been  The  King's  last  Good- 
night.  It  is  thus  cited  iu  a  contemporary  MS.  version  of  the  already-mentiontd 
0  hone  !  0  hone  !  '  Lamentable  new  ballad  upon  ye  Earle  of  Essex's  death  : 

11  All  you  that  crye  0  hone  !  0  hone  !  come  now  and  sing  '  0  Lord  with  me.' 
For  whv  '■!  our  Jewell  is  from  us  gone,  the  valiant  Knight  of  chivalrye, 
Of  rich  and  poor  beloved  was  he,  iu  tyme  an  honorable  Knight, 

Who  by  our  laws  condemn'd  was  he,  And  late  did  take  his  last  Good-nighty 

'  Essex's  last  Good-Night '  lay  hidden  till  Elizabeth  died.  Honore  de  Balzac,  in 
his  Contcs  Drolatiques,  calls  her  "the  worst  of  devils,  id  est,  a  wicked  old 
heretic  woman — to  keep  prisoner  sweet  Mary  of  Scotland;  to  the  shame  of  all 
the  knights  in  Christendom,  who  should  have  come  without  previous  assignation 
to  the  foot  of  Fotheringay,  and  have  left  thereof  no  single  stone."  There 
could  scarcely'  be  any  intended  laudation  of  Queen  Bess,  in  the  ballad  of  '  III 
May-Day,'  because  it  records  the  clemency  of  good  Queen  Katherine,  who  was 
displaced  for  the  wanton  Ann  Boleyn,  Elizabeth's  own  mother. 

Few  men  except  good  Catholics  ventured  to  speak  plainly  on  such  political 
scandals.  In  Elizabeth's  praise,  1601,  was  written  and  probably  printed  (hitherto 
lost,  except  in  Shirburn  MS.,  fol.  184),  fourteen  stanzas  :  '  A  pleasant  new  ballad 
of  the  most  blessed  and  prosperous  raigne  of  her  Majestye,  for  the  space  of  two 
and  fortye  yeeres,  and  now  entering  into  the  three  and  fortieth,  to  the  great  joy 
and  comfort  of  all  her  Mafjesty's]  faythfull  subjects.'  To  the  tune  of,  The 
Queene's  Hunt  is  up  (see  Popular  Music,  pp.  60,  62). 

"  T)ING-  out  your  bell's  !  0  what  should  you  doe  else  ? 
J  t     Strike  up  your  drums  for  joy  ! 
The  noblest  Queene,  that  ever  was  seene. 

In  England  doth  raigne  this  day. 

The  noblest  Queene  that  ever  tvas  seen, 

In  Eugland  doth  raigne  this  dag." 

Probably  soon  after  April,  1599,  had  been  already  extolled  the  Earl  of 
Essex's  apocryphal  Triumphs  in  Ireland ;  but  troubles  followed  his  unfortunate 
compromise  with  Tyrone,  speedily  punished  by  his  own  downfall.  See  p.  824, 
in  Appendix:  "  Of  joyful  triumphs  I  must  speak." 

Another  manuscript  ditty,  recording  Sir  Charles  Blount's  victory  in  that 
'distressful!  country,'  entitled,  '  A  joyfull  new  Ballad  of  the  late  Victorye obtained 
by  my  Lord  Mount  Jot/  and  our  ma.'s  forces  in  Ireland,  against  that  arch-traytor 
Tirone  and  his  confederals,  upon  the  24  of  December  last  [1 601].  Also  the  yielding 
of  the  Towne  of  Kingsale,  with  three  or  four  other  houldes  by  Don  Jhon  at 
Aquila,  Generall  of  the  Spanish  army,  which  was  yeelded  up  the  9  of  January 
last,  1602.  To  the  tune  of,  Fortune  my  foe.  Thirty-two  four-line  stanzas 
Trowbesh  MSS..  transcript  of  Shirburn  MS.,  fol.  156  verso. 

Additional  Note  on  retrieved  'Religious  Ballads'       xix 

"  ENGLAND,  give  prayse  unto  the  Lord  thy  God, 
The  which  in  mercy  doth  withold  his  rod, 

From  us  whose  synnes  deserved  have  the  same, 
Yet  we  continue,  iSWow-like,  past  shame. 

From  us  whose  sinnes  deserved  have  the  same,  etc. 

"  0  let  us  now  returne  unto  the  Lord, 
And  to  his  prayse  singe  Psalmes  with  one  accord, 
"Which  hath  defended  little  England's  right, 
From  forraine  foes,  their  cruelty  and  might." 

It  ends  with  this  stanza : — 

"  To  God  [give  praise,  for  He]  doth  still  defende,  ["Hurt  by  damp, 

Lord  on  this  [people  still]  thy  blessing  sende  !  L    illegible. 

Preserve  our  Queen,  her  Counsayle  grave  and  wise : 
Confound  her  foes,  that  doth  the  truth  despise." 

These  lugubrious  pseudo -religious  triumphant  songs  were  nearly  as  doleful  as 
Laments  and  Warnings.  This  one  had  been  sung  to  the  proverbial  '  hanging- 
tune,'  Fortune  my  foe  (see  p .  694,  and  Popular  Music,  p.  162).  The  land  was 
poisoned  with  puritanism  which  speedily  was  to  bring  forth  natural  results  in 
rebellion  and  intolerant  sectarianism,  under  hypocritical  disguise  of  pious 
humility  and  self-absorbtion.  To  such  people  were  commended  '  The  Pittyful 
Lamentation  of  a  Damned  Soule,'  eighteen  stanzas,  (Shirburn  MS.,  fol.  222), 
with  premonitions  extracted  from  the  noble  Book  of  Wisdom :  — 

"  Inquisition  shall  be  made  for  the  thoughts  of  the  Ungodly,  and  the  sound  of 
his  words  shall  come  unto  God  for  the  correction  of  his  iniquyties." — Sag.,  I,  v.  9. 

"  But  the  soules  of  the  Righteous  are  in  the  hands  of  God,  and  no  torment  shall 
touch  them.  In  the  sight  of  the  unwise  they  appeared  to  dye,  and  their  end  was 
thought  grievous,  aud  their  departing  also  as  a  destruction:  but  they  are  in 
peace." — Sag.,  Ill,  v.  1. 

"A  SI  walked  forth  in  a  morning-tyde, 
XX     I  heard  a  voyce  which  bade  me  abyde, 
And  ever  me -thought  to  me  it  cryde, 
'  Alas  for  ivoe  that  I  did  not  repent  ! 
For  I  am  dampned  [sic]  by  God' s  just  judgment.'  " 

Hitherto  lost,  but  now  recovered  (after  it  had  been  registered  as  a  transfer 
on  14  December,  1624),  was  this  genuine  set  of  '  Bellman's  verses,'  viz. 

'  The  Bel-man's  Good-morrow  which  in  our  ears  doth  ring, 
How  we  must  be  prepared  for  Christ,  our  heavenly  King.' 

To  the  tune  of,  Awake,  awake,  0  England  [for  which  see  Vol.  IV.  p.  468 ;  the 
same  tune  as  0  man  in  desperation,  p.  796  of  present  Vol.]. 

"  T^Rom  sluggish  sleep  and  slumber,  good  Christians,  all  arise  ! 

_C      For  Christ's  sake,  I  praye  you,  lyft  up  your  drowsye  eyes, 
The  night  of  shame  and  sorrowe  is  parted  cleane  awaye  ; 
God  give  you  all  Good-morrowe  and  send  you  happye  daye  !  " 

This  lively  ditty  suited  the  Christmas-time,  for  those  who  had  not  learnt  to 

"  Quarrel  with  mince- pies  and  disparage 
Their  best  and  dearest  friend,  Plum-porridge." 


Religious  Ballads  sung  to  Amatory  '  Dance-tunes 

Occasionally  the  pietistic  reverted  to  profane  jigs  and  sarabands  or  galliards. 
Thus  (entered  by  its  first  line  in  Stationers'  Registers,  on  14th  December,  1624, 
and  mistakenly  deemed  irrecoverable),  there  was  'Aright  excellent  and  godly  new 
Ballade,  shewinge  the  vncertainetye  of  this  present  lyfe,  the  vanitye  of  the  alluring 
world,  and  the  vnspcakable  joyes  of  heaven  prepared  for  those  that  vnfainedly 
beleeue  in  thu  Lord  Jesus.  To  the  Tune  of,  Wigmore's  Galliarde.' 

"  A  LI  carefnll  Christians,  marke  my  song, 
XX  Consider  death  must  ende  my  dayes ; 
This  earthly  lyfe  it  is  not  long, 

And  Christ  shall  come  to  judge  our  wayes 
The  glasse  doth  run,  the  clock  doth  go, 
Awake  from  synne  !   Why  shepe  ye  so  ?" 

Another  adopted  the  pretty  tune  of  Dainty,  0  come  thou  to  mc  !  (cf.  p.  582), 
to  a  religious  ballad  of  13  stanzas  : — '  The  sinner  despisinge  the  world  and  all 
earthly  vanities,  repoceth  Ids  whole  confidence  in  his  beloved  Saviour,  Jesus  Christ.' 

' '  TESU,  my  loveinge  spouse,  eternall  Yeritye  ! 
U      Perfect  Guide  vnto  my  soule  ;  Way  to  Eternity. 
Strengthen  me  with  thy  grace  !  From  thee  I'll  never  flee, 
Let  them  saye  what  thgy  will ;  Jesu,  come  thou  to  mee  !  " 

Lastly,  we  may  mention  one  more  of  fifteen  stanzas,  entitled  '  A  Proper  new 
ballad,  devised  upon  the  theame I  knoiv  not  what;  wherein  is  showed  how  men 
ought  not  to  set  their  mindes  on  wTorldly  pleasure,  but  on  the  Lyving  Lord,'  1614. 
To  the  Tune  of,  Labandalashot : — 

"  TTTHo  views  the  lyfe  of  mortall  man, 
VV      His  state  and  whereof  he  began, 
Shall  find  such  huge[ous]  heapes  of  woe, 

As  neither  tongue  nor  pen  can  showe. 
Wherewith  our  minds  may  daunted  be 

From  usinge  wordly  mirth  and  glee, 
And  move  us  to  consider  well 

What  paines  there  are  prepared  in  hell 
For  wicked  people,  as  their  lot, 

Which  have  done  here  they  know  not  w7iat." 

This  tune,  Labandalashot,  had  been  used  in  Dec.  1586,  for  '  The  Lamentation 
of  Beckles  in  Suffolk,'  ="  My  loving  good  neighbours"  (Huth's  Philobiblon 
Ballads);  and  ten  years  earlier  for  George  Mannington's  Lament,  1576  "I 
wailein  woe,  I  plunge  in  pain,"  {JIandefull  of  Pleasant  Delites ;  and  Ilitson's .,  tncit  n  t 
Songs).     Also  for  the  Garland  of  Goodwill  •  Song  of  King  Edgar,'  beginning  : — 

"  When  as  King  Edgar  did  govern  this  land, 
Adown,  adown,  down,  duivn,  down, 
And  in  the  strength  of  his  years  he  did  stand, 
Call  him  adown -a.1' 

The  burden  quoted  by  Ophelia  (Ham!et,iv.  5),  and  Dame  Quickly  {Merry  Wives, iA  ) 


{These  belong  to  '  The  Organ's  Echo,''  p.  612  :    Tune,  p.  660.] 



Dialogue  betwixt  Death  and  the  Lady- 
Lost  Labour,  with  Pipe  and  Tabor  (Trowbesh) 
"  Wilt  thou  be  gone  my  Dear  ? "      . 

Questioning  :  "Friend,  why  shrink,"  etc.     . 
Note  on  woodcut  of  '  Strange  Banquet'  for  p.  220 

Editorial  Preface  to  Part  XX  (1890)  . 

The  Lancashire  Lovers :  Thomas  and  Betty  . 

Toby's  Delight;   or,  An  Encouragement,  etc. 

Addenda  et  Corrigenda:  "We  who  need,"  etc.  (see  p.  817) 

Laborare  est  Orare  :   "  My  heart  felt  sore,  Mercer  Adam  " 

To  Joseph  Knight,  F.S.A.  (Bcdieatorg  Acrostic  Sonnet) 

The  Tradesman's  Complaiut  upon  the  Hardness  of  the  Times 

The  Clothier's  Delight ;  or,  The  Rich  Men's  Joy,  etc. 

The  Poet's  Dream  ;  against  Bailiffs  and  their  Dogs     . 
'  Sawuey  was  tall,  and  of  noble  race.'     By  Tom  D'Urfey 

Jenny's  Answer  to  Sawney;  or,  The  Inconstant  Lover  Despised 
A  True  Character  of  Sundry  Trades  and  Callings 
The  Naked  Truth ;  or,  A  New  Song  without  a  Lye 
Invincible  Pride  of  Women  ;  The  London  Tradesman's  Lament 
The  West-Country  Weaver,  his  Sorrowful  Lamentation 

Song  in  Praise  of  The  Bonny  Milkmaid.     By  Tom  D'Urfey 
The  Innocent  Country-Maid's  Delight.     (See  Reply,  p.  238.) 
The  Happy  Husband-man  ;  or,  Country  Innocence    . 
Huntington-shire  Plow-man  ;  or,  the  Plowman's  Complaint 
The  Shoemaker's  Delight ;  or,  a  New  Dialogue 
The  Gentle  Craft's  Complaint ;  or,  Shoe-maker's  Petition 



















The  Honest  Tradesman's  Honour  Vindicated,  etc.       .  .       37 

A  May-Day  Remembrance  of  Cornwall.     (Troiubesh  MS.)  .        39 

A  Very  Godly  Song,  Petition  of  the  Clerk  of  Bodnam  .       40 

Fancy's  Phoenix  ;  or,  The  Peerless  Paragon  of  the  Tiroes  .  42 
Fancy's  Favourite ;  or,  The  Mirror  of  the  Times.  By  C.H.  44 
The  Sorrowful  Lamentation  of  the  Pedlars  and  petty  Chapmen       46 

A  Pleasant  New  Song  :   '  My  Life  and  my  Death'         .  .48 

An  Answer  to  it,  by  Tom  D'Urfey  :  Love  Unblinded  .  .    Ibid. 

The  Jovial  Pedlar ;   or,  A  Merry  New  Ditty  .  .  .49 

The  Proud  Pedlar  :  •  So  merrily  singeth  the  Nightingale  '  .  51 
The  St.  Giles's  Broker,  buying  a  Green  Goose  .  .        52 

News  from  More-Lane  :  a  Frolic  of  a  Tapster  with  a  Colt  .  55 
The  Cries  of  London  (a.d.  1747-1759)  .  .  .57 

The  Three  "Worthy  Butchers  of  the  North.  By  Paul  Burges.  59 
A  New  Ballad  of  the  Three  Merry  Butchers  .  .  .62 

Some  Luck,  Some  Wit :  Mary  Carleton,  the  German  Princess       64 

(For  '  Carleton's  Epithalamium,'  seep.  230 post.) 

A  Lamentable  Ditty  on  the  Death  of  George  Stoole     .  .68 

The  Life  and  Death  of  George  of  Oxford  ;  with  his  Confession       70 
Geordie :  the  earliest-known  printed  Scots  version       .  .        72 

Boom  for  a  Jovial  Tinker  :   Old  Brass  to  Mend  .  .       74 

Tbe  Old  Pudding-pye  Woman,  set  forth  in  her  Colours  .        77 

The  Ragman.     By  John  Lookes      .  .  .  -78 

The  May-Day  Country  Mirth.  .  .  .  .79 

'Joan  to  the  May-Pole'  :  or  iginal,  1630      .  .  -81 

The  Boyal  Becreation  of  Jovial  Anglers  .  .  .82 

The  Virgin  Pace ;  or,  Yorkshire's  Glory         .  .  .84 

A  New  Song,  on  Eclipse,  his  foot-race  at  Drax,  Yorkshire  .       85 

The  Hunting  of  the  Hare       .  .  .  .87 

Princely  Diversion  :  The  Trusley  Hare-Hunting  Song  .       91 

A  New  Hunting  Song,  A  Fox-Chace  from  Craythorne  .       93 

A  New  Fox-Hunting  Song,  the  Cleaveland  Hounds,  1785  .       95 

Editorial  JSntr'  Acte  :  ending  '  Group  of  Trades  and  Sports  '  .         96 

a  ©roup  of  CupiD  ISallaos. 

"  Cupid,  thou  art  a  sluggish  Boy  !"     (1658  :   Compare  p.  118)  .  97 

Cupid's  Delight;  or,  The  Two  Young  Lovers  broyled  in  Love  98 

Cupid's  Wanton  Wiles;  Friendly  Advice.     By  Laurence  Price  100 

The  Dainty  Damsel's  Dream  ;  or,  Cupid's  Vision.  By  the  same  102 

The  Maid's  Bevenge  upon  Cupid  and  Venus.     By  the  same  104 

The  Kind  Mistress  ("  Long  days  of  Absence")           .              .  106 

The  Noble  Gallant ;  or,  Answer  to  "  Long  days  of  Absence  "  107 

The  London  Lad's  Lamentation  to  Cupid  ("Chloe's  face,"  &c.)  109 

A  Fairing  for  Young  Men  and  Maids.     By  Tobias  Bowme      .  Ill 

A  Pleasant  new  song  of  Two  Valentines  and  their  Lovers       .  114 

No  Drawing  of  Valentines.     By  Win.  Cartwright,  1637.  115 

To  his  Mistress,  A  Valentine.     By  Robert  Ilerrick,  before  1638.  Ibid. 




The  London  Lasse's  Lamentation;  or,  Her  Fear  lest  she,  etc.  116 
The  Young  Women  and  Maidens'  Lamentation  .  .117 

"  Cupid,  thou  art  a  wanton  boy"  (before  1659  :  compare  p.  97)  1 18 
Love's  Overthrow  (lost fro mKoxb.  Coll.,  II.  576;  now  retrieved)  119 
The  Slighted  Maid;  or,  The  Pining  Lover     .  .  .122 

"  My  lodging  upon  the  cold  floor  is."     (By  Hon.  J.  Howard.)  .      124 

"Lie  still,  my  babe,  lie  still,  and  sleep  ! ''  (Ibid.)  .  .  Ibid. 

Post-Dedication  to  George  Steinman-Steinman,  Esq.,  F.S.A.     .  Ibid. 

a  ffiroup  of  jUatrtmomal  Ballads. 

Dedicace  a  M.  Alexandre  Beljame,  Docteur-es-Lettres,  etc., 

(Editorial)  Andromeda  Eediviva,  with  a  Eock  Ahead  . 

(Editorial)  Four  Conditions  of  Woman:  Madme.  et  ces  Demoiselles 

"  Jenny  is  poor,  and  1  am  poor  "      . 
The  Oxfordshire  Damosel ;  or,  The  London  Merchant's  Choice 
A  Week's  Loving,  Wooing,  and  Wedding;  or,  Happy  is  the 
Wooing  that  is  not  long  a  Dooing 

"  I  married  my  wife  on  a  Sunday,"  etc. 

A  Match  at  a  Venture  ;  or,  Time  and  Opportunity  won  the  Day 
The  more  Haste,  the  worse  Speed;   or,  the  Maid's  Complaint 
The  Virtuous  Maid's  Resolution  ;  or,  The  Two  Honest  Lovers 
Wonderful  Praise  of  a  Good  Husband ;  the  Mother's  Counsel 
A  Merry  Dialogue,  Thomas  and  John  :   on  Women  and  Wine 
Tobias'  Advice  ;  or,  A  Remedy  for  a  Ranting  Young-man 
Tobie's  Experience  Explain'd  (concerning  Hostesses) 
Tobias'  Observation  (of  a  couple  at  a  Pair,  Of.  Preface,  p.  xi* 
The  New  AVay  of  Marriage  ;  or,  John  and  Kate's  Contract 
The  Kind-hearted  Creature  ;  or,  The  Prettiest  Jest,  etc. 
Rock  the  Cradle,  John.     Ry  Laurence  Price.  {Cut  on  p.  275) 
The  Ronny  Bryer;  or,  A  Lancashire  Lass,  etc.     By  Martin 

Parker.     (Companion-ballad  in  2nd  Preface,  p.  ix*) 
The  Northern  Lass's  Lamentation  ;  or,  the  Unhappy  Maid' 

Misfortune.     Probably  by  Martin  Parker 
The  Northern  Lad ;  or,  The  Pair  Maid's  Choice 
The  Fickle  Northern  Lass  ;  or,  the  Shepherd's  Resolution 
The  True  Lover's  Victory  ;  or,  The  Northern  Couple  agreed 
The  Trappan'd  Virgin  ;  or,  Good  Advice  to  Maidens  .  _ 
A  Young  Man  put  to  his  Shifts ;  or,  Ranting  Resolution 
The  Patient  Husband  and  the  Scolding  Wife. 
The  Woman  to  the  Plough,  and  the  Man  to  the  Hen-roost 

Probably  by  Martin  Parker 
My  Wife  will  be  my  Master  ;  Married  Man's  Complaint 
The  Woman  Outwitted  ;  or,  The  Weaver's  Wife  in  a  Trap 

"  What  hap  had  I  to  marry  a  Shrow  !  " — From  Pammdia,  1609 

The  Scolding  Wife         .  .  .  • 

The  Scolding  Wife's  Vindication  ;  or,  An  Answer,  etc. 

The  New  German  Doctor;  A  Cure  for  a  Scolding  Wife 








"[Inconstant  William.     (For  Answer  to  it  see  p.  231.) 
Kind  William  ;  or,  Constant  Betty     .... 
The  "Wounded  Lover's  Lamentation  to  Silvia ("  You  I  love")  . 
The  Hasty  Wedding ;  or,  William's  Patience  Bewarded 
The  Wiltshire  Wedding  of  Daniel  and  Doll    . 
The  Winchester  Wedding ;  or,  ltalph  of  Heading  and  Black 

Bess  of  the  Green.     By  Tom  D'Urfey,  1682-84. 
Roger's    Delight ;     or,    The    West-Country    Christening    and 

Gossiping.     By  Tom  D'TJrfey,  hefore  1688 
The  Wanton  Wife  of  Bath.     (Before  1616.)  . 

ISnti  of  ' fftatrt'monial  an*&  SntufRatrimom'al  Ballads'  . 

A  Strange  Banquet,  given  by  Cock-Lorrell  at  the  Peak  of 

Derbyshire.     By  Ben  Jonson,  1613.  (See  cut,  p.  xvii 
The  Fryar  well  fitted ;  or,  A  Pretty  Jest  that  once  befell,  etc 
The  Unconscionable  Batchelors  of  Derby 

An  Ancient  Song  of  Bartholomew  Fair,  in  1655 

The  Unfortunate  Lover;  or,  Merry-Andrew's  loss  of  Joan 

The  Westminster  Wedding  ;  or,  Carleton's  Epithalamium 

An  Answer  to  '  Unconstant  William ' 
The  Northern  Ditty ;  or,    The    Scotchman    Outwitted.     By 
TomD'Urfey      ..... 

An  Answer  to  '  Cold  and  Raw  '      . 

A  Third  Merry  Ditty  of  <  Cold  and  Raw '       . 

Roger's  Renown ;  or  the  Fourth  Merry  Ditty  of  '  Cold  and  Raw 

The  Ploughman's  Reply  to  the  Merry  Milkmaid's  Delight 
Editorial  Intermezzo  :  Ballade  de  Notre  Temps 

The  West-Couutry  Delight  (with  Frontispiece) 

A  Chansonnette  {Editorial) 

Editorial  Preface  to  Part  XXI  (1891) 

Song  of  Country  Life.     By  Thomas  Heywood 
"  When  the  time  comes  we  must  go." 

The  Passionate  Lover  :  "I  love  thee  more  and  more    . 
The  Guinea  Wins  Her  :   "  How  happy  are  we." 

Group  of  iHcvrg  Sfo&cnturcs. 

(Dedicated  to  W.  E.  Wilson,  Esq.,  of  the  British  Museum)    . 
A  Way  to  Woo  a  Witty  Wench  .... 

The  Maiden's  Nay;  or,  I  love  not  You.     By  P.  H[ayhurst  ?] 
The  West  Country  Jig;  or,  Love  in  due  Season 
The    West    Country    Wooing ;    or,   Merrv-conceited    Couple. 

Probably  by  John  Wad.  ? 
A  Serious  Discourse  between  Two  Lovers.     By  John  Wade    . 

Predestined  Love  :"  Pastora's  Beauties."      . 
Tom  and  Will  ;  or,  The  Shepherds'  Sheep-fold 





















The  "West  Country  Dialogue  ;  Aniseed  Robin  and  Jack 
Downright  Wooing,  of  Country  William  and  Pretty  Peggy 
A  Shepherd  fallen  in  Love  ;  A  Pastoral,  1655 

The  Few  Courtier  :   <  Have  at  AIL'    . 

The  Tombs  in  Westminster  Abbey.    By  Edw.  or  John  Phillips  268 

The  Great  Boobee      .  .  .  .  .  .273 

The  Down-right  Country-Man  ;  or,  Faithful  Dairy-Maid        .  276 
"  Adieu  to  the  Curse  of  a  Country  Life  !  "     1681       .                .277 

The  Citizen's  Vindication  against  the  Down-right  Country-man  278 

The  Sorrowful  Citizen;  or,  the  Couragious  Plow-man             .  279 

The  Londoner's  Answer  to  Down-right  Dick  of  the  West       .  282 
The  Merry  Plow-man  and  Loving  Milk-maid              .             .284 

Country  Girl's  Policy ;  or,  The  Cockney  Outwitted    .              .  286 

The  Plow-man's  Praise,  in  answer  to  the  Bonny  Milk  maid    .  288 

The  Loving  Lad  and  the  Coy  Lass  :   Will  and  Jane    .              .  289 

Women's  Just  Complaint,  against  Man's  Deceitfulness  in  Love  292 

The  Young  Man's  Resolution,  etc.     By  J.  S.,  or  S.  P.            .  295 

The  Maiden's  Reply  to  the  Young  Man's  Resolution               .  297 

The  Lover's  Prophecy.     Possibly  by  Tobias  Bowne  .              .  299 
Young  Man's  Lamentation ;  or,  Love  and  loyalty  rewarded 

with  Cruelty       .  .  .  .  .  .300 

The  Maid's  Answer  to  the  Young  Man's  Lamentation             .  301 

Play-House  Song,  the  Bonny  Grey-eyed  Morn,  by  Tom  D'Urfey  302 

Pretty  Kate  of  Edinburgh.     Original  by  Tom  D'Drfey           .  304 

The  Scotch  Wooing :  Jockey  of  the  Lough  and  Jenny  ("seep.  348)  305 

Merry  Wooing  of  Robin  and  Joan  :  The  West-Country  Lovers  308 

The  Wedding  of  Arthur  o'  Bradley  :  version  of  1656               .  314 

The  Ballad  of  Arthur  of  Bradley  :  version  of  1661      .              .  317 

A  Eound,  1609  :  "  Sing  with  thy  mouth,  sing  with  thy  heart.''  319 

Arthur  o'Bradley  :  Roxburghe  slip  version,  1778  (Cf.  p.  819)  320 

Love's  Mystery  ;  or,  A  Parcel  of  Clouded  Waggery                     .  322 

The  Mystery  Discovered ;  or,  Erolic  upon  Frolic        .              •  323 

The  Merry  Bag-pipes :   The  Pleasant  Pastime,  etc.     .              •  326 

The  Nobleman's  Generous  Kindness  ;  or,  the  Country-man,  etc.  329 

The  Knitter's  Job;  or,  The  earnest  Suitor  of  Walton  Town    .  331 

The  Bachelor's  Ballad  ;  or,  A  Remedy  against  Love  .              .  334 
The    Maid's   Answer    to    the   Bachelor's   Ballad;    or,  Love 

without  Remedy             .....  336 

The  Country  Lover's  Conquest  in  winning  a  Coy  Lass             .  338 

Merry  Country  Maid's  Answer  to  Country  Lover's  Conquest .  340 

The  West-Country  Jig  ;  or,  A  Trenchmore  Galliard  .              .  343 

A  Meeting  :  "  The  Old  Coach-road  thro'  a  common  of  furze."  .  345 

Joan's  Sorrowful  Lamentation  ;  or,  False-hearted  John.  346 
A  Maidenhead   Ill-bestowed  ;    or,    Dialogue   betwixt   Jenny 

and  Jockey  (Incongruous  Sequel  to  p.  305)         .              .  348 

Jenny,  Jenny ;  or,  the  False-hearted  Knight  and  Kind  Lass  .  350 




Some  milofosffiwnt  Ballatis             .           .  352 

Give  me  the  Willow  Garland;  or,  The  Maiden's  Fear.     By 

Laurence  Price  ......  353 

The  Willow  Green ;  or,  The  Distressed  Lover's  Complaint      .  355 

The  Willow  Green  turned  into  White;    or,  Young  Man's  Joy  357 

Cupid's  Trappan  ;  or,  Up  the  Green  Forest,  etc.          .              .  359 
Bachelor's  Fore-cast ;  or,  Cupid  Uublest :  Answer  to  Cupid's 

Trappan.  .  •  .  .  .  .361 

Scotch  Lad's  Moan  ;  Moggie's  Unkindness.     By  T.  D'Ui  fey  .  364 

The  Merry  Man's  Resolution ;  or,  A  London  Frolic.    By  T.  J.  366 

The  Wanton  Wife  of  Castle-Gate ;  or,  The  Boat-man's  Delight  369 

Jealous  Nanny;  or,  False-hearted  Willy  Turned  True             .  372 

The  Forlorn  Damsel.     Perhaps  by  John  Wade             .              .  374 

"  When  Beggars  do  marry,  for  better,  for  worse."     1729          .  375 

The  Knight  and  the  Beggar- Wench   ....  376 

The  Merchant's  Son  and  the  Beggar-Wench  of  Hull  .              .  379 

The  Forsaken  Maid's  Frolic  ;  or,  a  Farewell  to  Fond  Love      .  380 

The  False  Knight  Outwitted:   A  New  Song  .              .              .  383 

The  Disconsolate  Nymph  :  and,  The  Swain's  Answer              .  385 

Dead  and  Alive  :  A  Ditty  out  of  Gloucestershire.    By  L.  Price  387 

"  Had  she  not  care  enough  of  her  Old  Man  ?  "     Before  1670    .  391 

Editorial  Finale,  to  '  Group  of  Merry  Adventures  '            .  392 

Some  Ballaos  of  5Loue's  ^Mischances  .           .  393 

Editorial  Prelude             .             .             .                          .  Ibid. 

Cromlet's  Lilt :  with  Her  Reply         ....  396 

Another  Reply  (unauthentic,  but  Roxburghe)  to  Cromlet's  Lilt  397 

The  Young  Man's  Unfortunate  Destiny.    Possibly  by  T.  Bowne  399 

The  Frowns  of  Fate;  an  Answer  to  Unfortunate  Destiny.    Ibid  401 

The  Westminster  Lovers  ;  Thomas  and  Isabella           .              .  403 

The  Lamented  Lovers  ;   or,  Grief  for  the  Unhappy  Tragedy    .  405 

The  Tormented  Lovers  :  "  O  Love,  if  e'er  thou'lt  ease  a  Heart "  408 
The  Ruined  Lovers  :   Being  a  Rare  Narrative,  etc.      .              .411 

Love's  Tyranny;  or,  Death  more  welcome  than  Disdain         .  413 
Love's  Torments  eased  by  Death.     By  Tom  D'Urfey     .          .415 

A  Mournful  Carol :  Frankin  and  Cordelius     .              .              .  418 

The  Woful  Complaint  and  Death  of  a  Forsaken  Lover             .  422 

Editorial  Finale  to  Love's  Mischances  :  The  Fleeting  Hour  424 

Some  Complaints  of  Millers    .... 
The  Witty  Maid  of  the  West ;  or,  the  Miller  well  Thrashed 
West-Country  Lawyer  ;  or,  Witty  Maid's  Good  Fortune 
Skuetal  SfjnrauatcD  '  Complaints ' 

The  Dying  Lover's  Complaint 

The  Cuckold's  Complaint ;   or,  The  Wife's  Severe  Cruelty 



The  Hen-peckt  Cuckold  ;  or,  The  Cross-grain'd  Wife 
The  Wife's  Answer  to  the  Hen-peckt  Cuckold's  Complaint 
The  Young  Lady's  Complaint.     By  Laurence  White. 

The  Courteous  Knight.     1609      . 

"  Apres  ma  joumee  faite." 

"Eh!  qui  vous  passera  le  Bois." 
The  Baffled  Knight ;  or,  the  Lady's  Policy.     In  Four  Parts 
Love's  Triumph  over  Bashfulness.     Originally  by  D'Urfey 
Love's  Power  ..... 

The  Loving  Chamher-maid;  or,  Vindication  of  a  Departed,  etc 
Love's  Chronicle.     By  Abraham  Cowley 
The  Zealous  Lover  :   "  Come,  prethee  Love"  . 
The  Mistaken  Lover;  or,  the SupposedTJngrateful Creature,  etc 
Love  in  a  Bush  ;  or,  the  Two  Loyal  Lovers'  Joys  Completed 
The  Easter  Wedding  ;  or,  the  Bridegroom's  Joy  in  his  Bride 
The  Hasty  Bridegroom  :   "  Come  from  the  Temple."  . 

Cumberland  Nelly,  "  There  was  a  Lass  in  Cumberland" 

The  Lass  of  Cumberland.     (Another  early  Version.)  . 

The  Cumberland  Laddy.     (Imitation  of  '  Cumberland  Lass.') 

Earn  the  SEaglor  ffiroup 

The  Trappan'd  Taylor  ;  or,  A  Warning  to  all  Taylors,  etc. 

The  London  Taylor's  Misfortune ;  or,  Cutbeard  Harding 

Poor  Tom  the  Taylor  ;  his  Lamentation 

The  Taylor's  Lamentation      .... 

The  Country  Maiden's  Lamentation,  for  the  Loss  of  her  Tayloi 

The  Wonder  of  Wonders  :  a  six-legged  Creature 

A  Bloody  Battle  between  a  Taylor,  etc. 

A  Dreadful  Battle  between  a  Taylor,  etc.     By  John  Taylor 

The  Taylor's  Vindication ;    an  Answer  to  the  Warlike  Taylor 

Oxfordshire  Betty,  her  Letter  to  Tom  the  Taylor 

"  What  shall  I  do  to  show  how  much  I  love  her  ?  "     . 

The  Taylor's  Wanton  Wife  of  Wapping 
Touch  and  Go  ;  or,  The  French  Taylor  Trapann'd      . 
Lamentation  of  Seven  Journeymen  Taylors,     (samples) 

Editorial  Finale  to  Part  XXI.  '  If  the  Door  is  loc/c'd.' 

&  Second  ffiroup  of  Nautical  Ballatfs 

The  Mariner's  Delight,  with  Seven  Wives     .  .  .     490 

The  Maidens  of  London  their  brave  Adventures  .  .491 

Faithful  Jemmy  and  Constant  Susan,  living  at  Redriffe  .     493 

The  Gallant  Seaman's  Resolution  ....  495 
Love  and  Loyalty ;  or  a  Letter  from  a  Young  Man,  to  Susan 

in  London  .  .  .  .  .  .497 

Two  loyal  Lovers,  Sweet  William  and  Coy  Susan       .  .     499 

Two  loyal  Lovers  ;  or,  A  True  Pattern  of  Love.     By  Thomas 

Robins    ......  501 









True  Pattern  of  Loyalty  :  Agreement  William  and  Susan 

A  Farewell  to  Gravesend        .... 

A  Voyage  to  Virginia ;  or,  The  Valiant  Soldiers  Farewell  to 

his  Love  ......     508 

The  Trapanned  Maiden  ;  or,  The  Distress'd  Damsel    .  .511 

"  The  Perils  and  dangers  of  the  voyage  past"  .  .513 

The  Pensive  Maid  ;  or,  The  Virgin's  Lamentation      .  .516 

The  Valiant  Seaman's  happy  return  to  his  Love,  after  seven 

years      .  ,  .  .  .  .  .518 

Careless  Billy:  The  Frolicsome  Spark.     "Why  should  we 

quarrel  for  riches '?  "       .....     520 
The  True  Lover's  Joy :    A  Dialogue  between  a  Seaman   and 

his  Love  ......     521 

The  Press  Gang.     By  Harry  Carey,  1739    .  .  .      523 

The  Seaman's  Adieu  to  his  dear  ....  524 

The  Seaman's  Adieu  to  his  Pretty  Betty,  near  "Wapping;  or, 

A  Pattern  of  True  Love  ....  527 

The  Benjamin's  Lamentation  for  their  said  loss  at  sea  .  529 

A    Proper   New    Ballad,     entitled,    The    Granadeer's    Pant. 

September,  1680  .  .  .  .  .  532 

The  Sailor's  Departure  from  his  dearest  Love  .  .  534 

"Will   the  "Weaver  and   Charity  the   Chambermaid :  A  brisk 

Encounter  ......  536 

Songof,  "ItwasI  !  "— "  Not  far  from  town  "  .  .  537 

The  Letters  Three      .  .  .  .  .  .538 

The  Constant  Maiden's  Resolution  ;  or  Loyal  love  to  a  Seaman  539 
Loyal  Constancy  :  The  Seaman's  Love-Letter.  By  John  Blay  542 
Virtue,  the  Beward  of  Constancy.  Mary  Foart's  Answer  .  543 
The   Faithful   Lover's   Farewell  ;    or,    Private   News    from 

Chatham  ......     544 

The  Valiant  Virgin  ;  or,  Philip  and  Mary      .  .  .     546 

The  Seaman's  Doleful  Farewell :  The  Greenwich  Lover  .      549 

Love  and  Loyalty  well  met  .  .  .  .550 

The  Undaunted  Seaman  :  with  his  Love's  Lamentation  .     551 

The  Unkind  Parents  ;  or,  Languishing  Lamentation  of  two 

loyal  Lovers        ......     552 

Imitation:   "  A  weary  lot  is  thine,  fair  Maid  "  .  .      553 

"  It  was  a' for  him  our  rightful  King."    .  .   Ibid. 

The  Seaman's  Folly,  in  marrying  One  so  quickly.     By  Joseph 

Martin    .......     555 

The  Huntsman's  Delight;  or,  The  Forester's  Pleasure.     By 

Joseph  Martin    .  .  .  .  .  .557 

The  Seaman's  Renown  in  "Winning  his  Pair  Tjady       .  .     559 

An  Invitation  to  Lubberland,  with  Account  of  that  Country  .      564 

Editorial  Finale  to  Second  Group  of  Nautical  Ballads  .     568 
Dedicatory  Prelude :  addressed  to  "W.  Y.  Fletcher,  F.S.  A.     569 



jFfat  ffiroup  of  historical  Ballads:  before  1688        .     571 

Life  and  Death  of  Thomas  Stukely,  an  English  Gallant  in 

time  of  Queen  Elizabeth  ....     575 

London's  Glory  and  Whittington's  Renown  :  a  Looking-Glass 

for  Citizens     .  .  .  .  .  .582 

An  Old  Ballad  of  Whittington  and  his  Cat     .  .  .585 

"  All  you  that  are  Good-Fellows."    By  Thomas  Kobins  .      588 

The  Honour  of  a  London  'Prentice  :  Adventures  in  Turkey  .     589 
A  Lamentable    Ballad    of    a    Combat    between    Sir    James 

Steward  and  Sir  George  Wharton,  fought  near  London     595 
The  True  Lover's  Knot  Untied :  The  renowned  Princess  the 

Lady  Arabella .  .  .  .  .  .601 

The  Lamentation  of  John  Musgrave,  executed  at  Kendal  .  604 
A    Pleasant   Ballad :   How    two  Valiant  Knights,   Sir  John 

Armstrong  and  Sir  Michael  Musgrave  fell  in  love  with 

the  daughter  of  Lad}-  Dacres,  etc.  .  .  .     606 

The    Lofty    Bishop,    the    Lazy    Brownist,    and    the    Loyal 

Author,  1640      .  .  .  .  .  .609 

A  Three  Part  Song,  1642.  .  .  .  .610 

The  Organ's  Echo  :  Memento  Mori,  1641  (Cf.  p.  660)  .     612 

The  Organ's  Funeral ;  or,  The  Choristers'  Lamentation,  1642  614 
A  New  Game  of  Cards  ;  or,   The   Three  Nimble    Shuffling 

Cheaters.     Perhaps  by  Laurence  Price,  compare  p.  685     615 
Majesty  in  Misery  ;  or,  An  Imploration  to  the  King  of  Kings. 

Attributed  to  Charles  1st  .  .  .  .619 

The  Manner  of  the  King's  Trial,  at  Westminster-Hall,  January 

1641-       .  .  .  .  ..622 

The   King's   Last    Speech,    at    time    of   his   Execution,    30 

January,  164f    ......     625 

The  Lamenting  Lady's  last  Farewell  to  the  World ;  Princess 

Elizabeth,  1650.  .  .  •  .  .  .631 

Upon  the  Defacing  of  Whitehnll.     By  Martin  Parker,  circa  1645      633 
The  Last  News  from  France  :  Escape  of  the  King  of  Scots 

from  Worcester,  2  Sept.,  1651    .  .  .  •     635 

The  Royal  Patient  Traveller ;  or,  the  Wonderful  Escapes  of 

his  sacred  Majesty  Charles  the  Second  from  Worcester 

Fight.     By  Henry  Jones.  ....     639 

Captain  Hind's  Progrees  and  Ramble,  1651    .  .  .     644 

The  Lamentation  of  a  Bad  Market,  17  July,  1660  .  .      647 

A  New  Ballad,  to  an  Old  Tune,  '  Make  Room  for  an  Honest 

Red-Coat.'     Same  date  .  .  .  .  .648 

The  Soldier's  Fortune ;  or,  The  Taking  of  Mardyke,  16££  .  651 
The  Soldier's  Salutation  to  the  Wary  Wench  of  Worcester  .  653 
The    Gang:     Nine    Worthies     and     Champions,    Lambert, 

Desboro',  etc.,  16;::;  .  •  ■  •     658 




'6  U 

The  Traitors'  Downfall ;  or,  A  Brief  Relation  of  that  Phanatic 

Crew       .... 
An  Exit  to  the  'Exit  Tyrannus,'  March,  16 
A  Free  Parliament  Litany 
Three  Ballads  on  George  .Monk : 

1— Iter  Boreale,  the  Second  Part.     By  T.  H. 

2. — A   Pleasant  Dialogue  hetween   the  Country-man   and 

Citizen,  1660  . 

3. — England's  Heroic  Champion.     By  J.  W.  (query  Wade  ?) 
The  Loyal  Subjects  Joy  :  Restoration  of  King  Charles  II 
The  Mirror  of  Prince  Charles  the  Second 

The  King  enjoys  his  Own   Again  (Restoration  Sequel) 

"Win  at  First,  Lose  at  Last :  A  New   Game  at  Cards.     By 

•  Laur.  Price 

A  True  Relation  of  the  Great  Floods  in  England.  By  L.  White 
The    Troubles   of  these  Times:   Calamities    of  Our  English 

Nation    ...... 

Great  Britain's  Alarum  to  Drowsie  Sinners  in  Distress 

The  Frenchman's  Lamentation  for  the  Loss  of  their  General 

Turenne.  ..... 

The  Trial  of  Patience  :  Relation  of  a  Widow  of  Yorkshire 
Excellent  New  Song:   A  True  Touch  of  the  Times,  1687 
England's  Joyful  Welcome  to  the  King,  James  II ;    or  the 

Loyal  Subject's  Delight,  1688     . 

The  Protestant's  Satisfaction  in  a  Prosperous  Reign,  1686 

2.— historical  Ballatis:  Ct'mc  of  Mnitam  anti  Jftarg 

Tarqnin  and  Tullia  :  Extracts     .... 

The  True  Protestant's  Triumph  ;  or,  Lilliburlero  in  English 
New  Song  on  the  Happy  Coronation  of  William  and  Mary 

The  Subject's  Satisfaction :   a  New  Song  of  the  Proclaiming 

of  King  William  and  Queen  Mary,  13th  Feb.,  1689 
The  Welsh  Fortune-Teller;  or,  Sheffery  Morgan's  Observation 

of  the  Stars 
The  Jolly  Welsh  Woman,  drinking  at  the  sign  of  the  Crow 
in  London.  ..... 

The  Pope's  Last  Will  and  Testament,  1689 

Some  Ualt'ant  Jcmalc  Solbtcrs 

1. — The  Gallant  She-Soldier.    By  Laurence  Price,  1655 
2. —  The  Famous  Woman-Drummer.     By  Laur.  Price 
3.— The  Soldier's  Delight ;  or,  The  She-Volunteer 
4. — Dialogue  between  a  Soldier  and  his  Love 
5. — The  Love-Sick  Lady,  her  sighs  for  her  Loyal  Soldier 
6. — The  Maiden  Warrior  ;  or,  The  Damsel's  Resolution,  1689 
Pretty  Polly  Oliver's  Kamble      . 

























England's  Tribute  of  Tears  on  the  Death  of  Duke  of  Grafton, 

"  Oct.,  1690  ..... 

Captain  Johnson's  last  Farewell  to  the  World.     Dec,  1690 

Sir  John  Johnson's  Farewell.     By  Joe  Hains 

England's  Triumph  at  Sea,  1691 

Naval  Warfare  of  1692:   "To  God  alone,   let   us   all   glory 
give."     .  .  ._  • 

The  Farmer's  Son  of  Devonshire,  1693 

The  Loyal  Soldier  of  Flanders  ;  or,  Faithless  Lass  of  London 

The  Loyal  British  Fighting  in  Flanders,  1694 

The  Poor  Man's  Prayer  for  Peace 

The  Eoyal  Frolic  ;  or,  King  William's  Entertainment 
The  Country  Lass's  Good  Fortune 
Eoyal  Recreation  ;  or,  King  William's  Merriment 

The  Royal  Recreation ;  or,  A  Second  Part,  etc. 

The  King  and  the  Forester     .... 

The  Court  and  Kingdom  in  Tears,  for  Queen  Mary,  1694 

Britain's  Sorrowful  Lamentation,  for  Loss  of  Queen  Mary 

Group  of  Christmas  Carols  .... 

Religious  Belief  ;    and,  The  Lowest  Room  (mottoes)  . 
Four  Choice  Carols  for  Christmas  Holidays  : 

1. — On  Christmas  Day  :   "  God  rest  you,  merry  Gentlemen." 

2._On  St.  Stephen's  Day  :   "  In  friendly  Love  "    . 

3.— On  St.  John's  Day:   "When  bloody  Herod,"  etc. 

4. — On  Innocents'  Day  :   "Upon  the  25th  of  December  ' 
The  Angel  Gabriel,  his  Salutation  to  the  B.  Yirgin  Mary 
A  Godly  New  Ballad,  entitled,  A  Dozen  of  Points 
A  most  excellent  Ballad  of  Joseph  the  Carpenter,  etc. 
Even  in  the  Twinkling  of  an  Eye 

A   New   Christmas   Carol,    1661  :    "  The  babe  was  born  in 
Bethlehem  .... 

A  Christmas  Carol,  1688  :   "Now  when  Joseph  and  Mary" 
Christ's  Tears  over  Jerusalem.      Probably  by  Thomas  Deloney 
The  Wonderful  Miracles  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour 

A  New  Carol  of  the  Birth  of  our  E.  Saviour. 
Christ  compared  to  an  Apple-Tree 

Other  Christmas  Carols:  The  Cherry-Tree  Carol,  etc. 

A  Godly  Ballad  :   "I  will  go  seek  my  Saviour  " 

New  Christmas  Carol,  -with  Divine  Poems:   "  Let  all  that  ar 

to  mirth  inclined  "  .... 

Good  Christian's  Complaint:  Poor  Charity's  Lamentation 
A  Description  of  Plain-Dealing,  Time,  and  Death 
A  Letter  for  a  Christian  Family.     By  John  Vicars     . 
A  Lesson  for  all  True  Christians.     By  John  Cart  ?     . 
















Slppcnbii :  (Cotricjentia  ct  Utrtjcntia 

The  Country-Maid's  Delight ;  or,  the  Husbandman's  Honour 
made  known  ..... 

The  Bad-husband's  Experience  of  111 -Husbandry  ;  or,  A  New 
Lesson  for  Ale-Wives.     By  L.  "White,  or  John  "Wade 

Couragious  Seamen's  Loyal  Health  (beginning  on  p.  52S) 

The  Downfall  of  Pride.     By  Humphrey  Crouch 

A  Prospective-glass  for  Christians. 

The  Poet's  Dream  :  his  Vision  of  Tride. 

The  Religious  Man's  Exhortation 

The  Languishing  Swain  ;  or,  The  Hard-hearted  Shepherdess 

Editorial  Finale  to  Vol.  VII — '  Time  for  us  to  go  !  ' 
Accredited  List  of  Axthobs 
Index  of  First-Lines,  Buedens,  Titles,  axd  Tuxes  . 





The  Bookbinder  is  advised  to  retain,  and  not  to  cancel,  the 
successive  temporary  Prefaces  and  Tables  of  Contents,  which 
belong  to  the  respective  Parts :  each  holding  special  matter 
deserving  to  be  preserved  for  future  reference. 

This  direction  applies  also  to  the  previous  volume. 

«?*  cXT»5iC^V>^^ 

i&ojrfmrgl)e  Ballad 

"  IVT^  Dearest,  h'ts  walk  through  the  Meadows  this  weather, 
.xL    And  hear  the  Birds  welcome  in  the  Spring; 
Beneath  a  Bhade  we'll  sit  down  together, 

And  hear  the  Nightingale  sweetly  sing. 
There,  as  we  pass,  the  chirping  Sparrow, 

Now  from  the  blust'ring  winter  tree, 
Will  strain  his  throat  lor  to  hid  us  Good-Morrow, 

As  we  pass  over  the  rlow'ry  lea. 

"  The  whistleing  Blackbird  will  tune  up  his  throat,  too, 
To  see  us  loveingly  pass  along  ; 
The  pretty  Lark  she  will  set  up  her  note,  too, 
And  in  the  air  sing  us  her  tine  BOUg. 

The  Magpye  in  the  hedge  will  chatter, 

And  tell  the  Good-Wife  of  her  guess, 

Seeming  to  tattle  of  many  a  matter  : 

Thus  all  the  Birds  will  their  joys  express. 

"  There  we  shall  hear  too  the  sweet- singing  Thrashes 

Strain  up  their  throats  with  the  Jenny-Wren, 
Seated  on  twigs  in  the  pleasant  Green  bushes, 

Singing  as  loud  as  their  throats  can  strain,"  etc. 

—  The  Spring  Birth'  Notts,  to  the  Tune  of 
Charon  make  Haste,  1685. 

Illustrating  tf)t  last  gears  of  t\jt  Stuarts* 



J.    WOODFALL    EBSWORTH,    M.A.,    Cantab.,   F.S.A. 

Author   of    '  Karl's   Legacy,'    1868,    and    '  Cavalier   Lyrics,'    1888 ; 

Editor  of  four  reprinted  'Drolleries'  of  the  .Restoration; 

of  'The  Bagford  Ballads'  and  'Amanda  Group  of 

Bagford  Poems  '  ;  '  The  Two  Earliest  Quartos 

of  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,   1600:' 



FOl  FE    part  h 

Groups  of  JEratocs  anto  Sports,  of  Cupfo  Ballatis,  of  fHatrtmomal 
anti  &ntt=£Hatrimom'al  Ballatis. 

Fiddler.—"  Under  your  Mastership's  correction  I  can  sing- 

•  The  Duke  of  Norfolk' ;  or,  '  The  Merry  Ballad 
OfDi-oerus  and  Lazarus ' ;  '  The  Rose  of  England '  ; 

'  In  Crete  when  Dedimns  first  began '  ; 

'  Jonas,  his  Crying  out  against  Coventry '  ; 

'  Maudlin  the  [Bristoive)  Merchant's  Daughter' : 

■  The  Demi;  and  '  Ye  dainty  Dames ' ;  \=Pride  s  Fall. 

•  The  Landing  of  the  Span  yards  at  Bo7u, 
11  itk  the  Bloody  Battle  of  Mile-End:  " 

Thomas.—"  All  excellent !  "—Fletcher's  Monsieur  Thomas,  iii.  3. 


Pcintet)  for  tbe  I5allati  §>ocictp, 



l'KIXTED    HV    STEPHEN    Al  STIX    AND    >OXS. 

No.  31. 

CDttorial  #vtfatt  to  0art  %%. 

' '  "Wheref  ore  this  tangle  of  perplexities, 
The  trouble  or  the  joy?  the  weary  maze 
Of  narrow  fears  and  hopes  that  may  not  cease  ?  " 

— Emma  Lazarus  :  Phantasies. 

|T  is  with  feelings  of  mingled  satisfaction  and  regret  that 
the  Editor  sends  forth  this  portion  of  the  Fixax  Volume, 
the  Seventh,  of  Roxburghe  Ballads  :  satisfaction,  in  so 
far  as  a  hundred  choice  ditties  are  here  secured  against 
neglect  and  extinction,  the  merit  of  many  among  them 
deserving  to  be  recognized  anew,  especially  those  written  by  Ben 
Jonson;  Martin  Parker,  Laurence  Price,  Tobias  Bowne,  and  the 
vivacious  Tom  D'Urfey ;  others,  and  often  confined  to  a  unique 
impression,  are  by  less-renowned  yet  once  popular  ballad-mongers, 
whose  names  are  unknown  or  their  labours  inextricably  intermingled. 
After  two  centuries  and  more  of  seclusion,  they  flutter  forth  again, 
like  bats  and  owls,  into  the  light  of  day,  and  seek  shelter  in  the 
homes  of  our  Ballao  Son'ctrj. 

So  many  of  these  homes  are  desolated  year  by  year,  and  the  long- 
continued  work  has  so  many  obstacles  to  encounter,  that  a  regretful 
sadness  is  difficult  to  conquer,  even  by  one  whose  whole  course  of 
life  has  been  to  mirthfully  set  at  defiance  every  tendency  to  let 
"melancholy  mark  him  for  her  own,"  as  she  did  the  disagreeably 
obtrusive  victim  of  Thomas  Gray's  'Elegy.'  To  be  cheerfully 
buoyant,  keeping  a  light  heart  and  a  thin  pair  of  etcetera,  is 
not  a  bad  rule  of  conduct,  in  a  world  which  fiuds  so  many  of  its 
Nineteenth-century  poets  perpetually  maudlin,  its  critics  atrabilious, 
its  theologians  a  prey  to  ghastly  doubts  of  their  own  ability  to 
believe  the  sacred  truths  our  wiser  ancestors  laid  to  heart  and 
died  for  valiantly  ;  while  our  verbose  Statesmen,  dreary  Professors, 
and  place-hunting  turncoat  Politicians,  court  the  mob,  cherishing 
pessimism,  lured  by  democratic  socialism  or  destructive  separatist 
theories.  One  might  think  that  such  people  had  continued  to  live 
too  long,  until  after  "night's  candles  are  burnt  out,"  and  yet 
no  "jocund  day  stands  tiptoe  on  the  misty  mountain  tops;"  so 
desponding  are  their  moods.  As  though  neither  nature  nor  art 
could  please  them,  and  they  adopted  Hamlet's  words,  without  his 
excuse,  "  Man  delights  not  me,  nor  woman  either  !  " 

Why  so  melancholy,  my  little  Sirs?  Have  you  lost  enjoyment 
of  an  astronomical  treatise,  a  dish  of  syllabubs  under  the  tree,  of 
an  opera  by  Gluck,  a  punch-bowl,  a  well-harmonised  glee,  or  an 
unadulterated  old  English  ballad  ?     The  sea-side  breezes,  the  scent 

viii*     A  Ballad- Lover's  rejection  of  Pessimism  (Cf.  p.  240). 

of  violets  in  the  hedge-rows,  the  halmy  breath  of  our  northern 
heights  at  Hampstead  Heath,  or  a  brisk  ascent  of  Scotch  or  Swiss 
mountains  (we  name  not  Wales,  because  unfortunately  it  has  the 
drawback  of  harbouring  discontented  and  dishonest  natives  to  destroy 
the  charm,  since  "  Taffy  was  a  Welshman,  and  Taffy  was  a  thief" 
from  hoar  antiquity) ;  cannot  any  or  all  of  these  banish  your 
dyspepsia  ?  Can  no  perusal  of  the  countless  masterpieces  of  English 
and  foreign  literature,  '  that  large  utterance  of  the  early  gods,' 
console  you  for  selfish  troubles,  insects  of  the  day  with  your  paltry 
jealousies,  and  awaken  a  nobler  ambition?  Are  some  of  these 
delights  too  far  removed  from  you  ?  Well,  then,  take  the  goods 
provided  for  j^ou,  and  turn  to  banquet  on  our  newly  completed 
portion  of  Roxburghe  Ballads.  With  "  Sports  and  Trades,"  with 
"Cupid  Ballads,"  and  with  'Matiimonial  or  Anti  Matrimonial 
Ditties,'  you  may  banish  Atra  Cura. 

Erelong  another  Part  will  be  ready  for  your  delectation  :  a  second 
third  of  this  final  volume.  It  will  hold  a  '  Group  of  William  and 
Mary  Ballads,'  with  a  few  on  military  commanders  and  historical 
characters,  extending  through  the  days  of  Queen  Anne  to  the  early 
Georges ;  a  second  and  concluding  '  Group  of  Later  Naval 
Ballads,'  which  might  make  an  '  Old  Salt '  linger  over  them,  and 
forget  his  grog  or  his  sailing-orders  ;  a  '  Group  of  Religious  and 
Moral  Ballads,'  considerably  too  sublime  in  their  ecstatic  devotion 
for  ordinary  easy-going  sinners  to  resist  being  converted  to  exemplary 
conduct  and  churchmanship  ;  with  our  friend  W.  R.  Wilson's  now 
ready  '  Group  of  Merry  Adventures'  for  men  and  maids;  and  a 
varied  '  Group  of  Notable  Events  and  Occurrences,'  not  omitting 
a  few  pleasant  highwaymen  or  edifying  hangings,  which  suffice  to 
show  that  people  were  wide  awake  two  centuries  ago,  and  knew 
how  to  enjoy  life  or  death,  whichever  chanced  to  come  uppermost. 
These  are  early-forthcoming  dainties  from  our  excellent  printers, 
the  Messrs.  Stephen  Austin  &  Sons'  Hertford  press ;  and  Members 
of  the  Ballad- Society  may  say  with  Parson  Evans,  as  we  formerly 
quoted,  in  a  truly  prophetical  spirit,  "  I  will  make  an  end  of  my 
dinner  :  there  is  pippins  and  cheese  to  come  !  " 

Among  the  rarities  in  the  present  Part  XX.  is  a  unique  ballad, 
probably  written  by  Martin  Parker,  (reprinted  on  p.  168),  "The 
Northern  Lasse's  Lamentation,"  with  its  thrilling  burden  of  '  0  the 
Oak,  the  Ash,  and  the  bonny  Ivy  Tree,  They  flourish  at  home  in  my 
own  Country.  Another  ballad  having  almost  identically  the  same 
burden  is  mentioned  on  p.  170  ;  this  being  itself  a  unique  broadside, 
originally  perhaps  by  Laurence  Price,  if  not  Martin  Parker's,  and 
never  hitherto  reprinted,  it  is  added  here  for  comparison  without 
delay.  (The  music  of  Love's  Tide  was  composed  by  Henry  Lawes, 
and  printed  in  1659  :  beginning,  "How  calm  and  temperate  am  I 
grown."     See  vol.  vi.  p.  774,  where  we  gave  the  song  complete.) 

'  The  Ash,  and  the  Oak,  and  the  Ivy- Tree.'  ix* 

C6e  Lancashire  Letters; 

©t,  &fje  JHerrrj  W,aoinQ  of  Thomas  arrti  Betty. 

Thomas  to  pritty  Betty  «•««£  a  wooing, 

And  with  this  Virgin  fain  he  would  be  doing  ; 

She  blushes,  then  she  smiles,  and  crys,  "  Pish  !  fie  !  " 

And  with  half-smiles,  half-frowns,  puts  his  hand  by  ; 

At  length  by  gentle  dalliance  the  Maid 

Is  over-power'd  and  is  [over-sway'd]  ; 

Love's  pleasures  having  tasted,  with  faint  breath, 

"  Thomas,"  she  says,  "  I  am  thine  unto  the  death." 

Now  Thomas  to  the  seas  must  go  ; 

Betty  in  man  s  Apparel  goes  also  : 

Thomas  was  by  a  common  bullet  slain, 

But  Betty  safely  did  return  again. 

To  the  Tune  of  Love's  Tide  [see  p.  97] ;  or,  At  home  to  be  in  my  own  Country. 

"  IVT^  Betty,  thou  knowest  I  have  courted  thee  for  long, 
lit     I  prithee  now  ease  me  of  my  pain  ; 
My  love  it  is  true,  and  my  passion  is  strong, 
Come  let  me  but  kiss  thee  once  again. 

The  Ash  and  the  Oak,  and  the  Ivy-  Tree, 
Flourish  bravely  at  home,  in  our  Country." 

"  Those  flatteries,  Thomas,  I  pray  you  forbear, 

Young  men  they  are  wanton,  deceitful  and  wild, 
They  study  all  they  can  young  maidens  to  ensnare, 
But  I'le  have  a  care  how  1  am  beguil'd. 

The  Ash  [and  the  Oak,  and  the  Ivy  Tree, 

Flourish  bravely  at  home  in  my  own  Country],  12 

"  To  tell  thee  I  love  [thee]  better  than  Gold, 
Or  prize  thee  more  than  precious  Pearl, 
Is  nothing  but  the  truth,  and  to  say  't  I'le  be  bold : 
For  I  love  thee  more  than  those,  my  Girl. 
The  Ash  and  the  Oak,  and  the  Ivy  Tree, 
Flourish  bravely  at  home,  in  our  own  Country.''' 

"  If  your  love  it  be  true,  I  do  thank  you  for  't ; 
But  why  should  1  marry,  being  not  fifteen  ? 
I  believe  you're  a  wag,  and  love  for  to  sport 

With  every  Virgin  you  have  seen.     The  Ash,  [the  Oak,]  etc."  24 

M  Pretty  Betty,  believe  me,  I  am  not  in  jest : 
I'le  be  constant  and  true  to  thee  all  my  life. 
That  love  to  my  Dearest,  which  I  have  exprest, 

I[s  i]n  honesty,  Betty,  to  make  thee  my  Wife."     The  Ash,  etc. 

"  But,  Thomas,  you  know  I  am  too  young  for  to  wed, 
Full  seven  years  longer  I  well  may  tarry  : 
I  fear  for  to  lose  my  soft  maidenhead,  [i.e.,  maidenhood,  frequenter. 

Which  tempts  you  thus  with  me  to  marry."     The  Ash,  etc.  i>6 

x*  The  Lancashire  Lovers  :  Thomas  and  Hetty. 

"  Oh,  Betty  !  fear  nothing,  lie  do  thee  no  harm  ; 
The  flower  is  sweetest  when  [it  is]  new  blown  ; 
I  know  that  thy  blood  now  begins  to  be  warm, 

Though  the  pleasures  of  Love  thou  hast  never  known."     The  Ash,  etc. 

"  Go,  Thomas,  I  doubt  thou  art  wantonly  bent, 
Yet  I'le  swear  you  almost  tempt  me  to  love  ; 
If  I  thought  I  should  not  the  bargain  repent, 

I  would  venture  to  taste  the  sweet  pleasures  of  Love."     The  Ash.      48 

' '  Fear  nothing,  my  Dearest,  come  give  me  thy  hand  ; 
Speak  freely,  my  Betty,  and  vow  to  be  mine  : 
My  Body  and  Estate  is  at  thy  command, 

And  all  the  delights  of  the  world  shall  be  thine."     The  Ash,  etc. 

' '  Here  I'le  give  thee  my  hand,  and  with  it  my  heart ; 
And  to  seal  the  bargain  I'le  give  thee  [a]  kiss  : 
From  my  true  Love  I  will  never  depart. 

I'le  venture  it  now,  let  it  hit  or  miss."     The  Ash,  etc.  60 

Thus  Thomas  and  Betty  at  last  were  agreed. 

But  mark  how  Fortune  did  on  tbem  frown : 
Toor  Thomas  was  fore'd  to  the  Seas  with  speed, 
And  poor  Betty  with  grief  was  cast  down. 
The  Ash,  [the  Oak,  and  the  Ivy  Tree, 
Flourish  bravely  at  home,  in  our  Country']. 

[2Ci)e  JSecanti  Part.    To  the  same  Tune.] 

"  \T^W'  Betty,  for  a  while  I  must  bid  thee  adue, 
ll     And  to  the  Seas  I  must  speedily  go  : 
But  I  to  my  Betty  will  ever  be  true, 

Not  doubting  but  she  will  prove  so  too."     The  Oak,  etc.  72 

"  Since  the  Fates  have  desired  to  take  thee  from  me,  ['  take  him.'] 

I'le  cross  their  designs  :  with  my  dearest  I'le  go  : 
In  a  Souldier's  apparel  1  cloathed  will  be, 

And  none  of  the  Seamen  shall  me  know."     The  Ash,  etc. 

"  If  that  thou  art  resolved  with  me  for  to  go, 

My  endeavour  shall  be  thee  in  safety  to  keep  : 
To  save  thee  from  hard  boards  Lie  lye  down  full  low, 
And  at  night  in  my  arms  my  dearest  shall  sleep." 
Oh  the  Ash,  [the  Oak,  and  the  Ivy -Tree, 
Flourish  bravely  at  home  in  our  Country].  84 

Thus  both  sail'd  together  upon  the  salt  main, 

And  their  ship  with  their  enemy  did  quickly  engage  ; 

Poor  Thomas  by  a  bullet  was  unhappily  slain, 

Which  made  his  sweet  Betty  with  madness  to  rage.     To  the  Ash,  etc. 

'  Toby's  Delight :  '  another  ballad  b//  Tobias  Bowne.      xi* 

"  Now  a  fare-wel  unto  all  worldly  joy  ! 

My  Thomas  being  dead,  no  delights  I  shall  see  : 
Although  at  first  I  did  seem  to  be  coy, 

Yet  often  times  we  did  hug  by  the  Ivy -Tree  : 
The  Ash,  and  the  Oak,  and  the  Ivy-  Tree  : 
And  I'le  now  stay  at  home,  in  my  own  Country."  96 

Printed  for  J.  Wright,  J.  Clarke,  W.  Thackeray,  and  T.  Passinger. 

fin  Black-letter.  Three  woodcuts  :  1st,  the  Knight  and  Lady,  a  little  papoose 
floating  suggestively  down  the  river  towards  them,  as  in  vol.  vi.  p.  110  ;  2nd 
and  3rd  are  on  p.  143  in  the  present  volume.    Date,  of  later  issue,  circa  1672.] 

Tobias  Bowne  wrote  many  of  our  Roxburghe  Ballads,  including 
'A  Fairing  for  Young  Men  and  Maids'  (on  p.  Ill)  and  the  series 
which  bears  his  name,  '  Tobias'  Advice,'  his  '  Experience  '  and  his 
'  Observation'  (on  pp.  151,  153,  155) ;  we  here  add  '  Toby's  Delight,' 
probably  his  also,  from  a  unique  broadside  not  hitherto  reprinted. 

Cofcp'0  tDeltgbt ; 

©r,  %x  Encoutapmmt  far  Ifounrj  JHen  anti  iEHattis. 

Young  Men  and  Maids  pray  never  tarry, 

Ife're  you  do  intend  to  marry  ; 

For  if  your  charge  be  ne'r  so  great, 

He  that  sends  mouths  -will  sure  send  meat.  [Compare  p.  129. 

To  the  Tune  of,  Tender  Hearts  of  London  City.     [See  vol.  vi.  p.  80.] 

"  T^Hou  art  she  whom  I  love  dearly,  therefore,  dearest,  do  not  fear  me, 
J-  I  do  love  thee  as  my  life  ; 

All  that's  mine  shall  be  thine,  and  if  thou  wilt  but  be  my  "Wife. 

"  Though  I  have  not  much  to  give  thee,  yet  I  vow  I  will  not  leave  thee 
"While  that  I  enjoy  this  life  ; 
Till  Death  doth  come,  &  call  us  home,  which  parteth  every  man  &  wife."      10 

[The  Maid  Answers.] 
"  I  have  heard  some  people  babble,  saying,  '  You'l  come  into  trouble, 
You  must  expect  a  charge  come  on, 
When  you  are  wed  and  brought  to  bed: '  those  things  I'de  have  you  think  upon  !  " 


' '  Suppose  that  we  had  Children  plenty,  if  it  were  eighteen  or  twenty, 
Yet  they  are  blessings  to  the  Poor  : 
And  in  their  sight  take  more  delight  than  he  that  hath  thousands  in  store.     20 

"  Therefore  why  should  we  be  daunted  ?  it's  your  love  I  ask,  pray  grant  it, 
And  to  thee  I  will  prove  true. 
I'le  not  leave  thee,  nor  deceive  thee,  and  will  love  no  one  but  you." 

"  Though  your  Father  did  deride  me,  and  your  Mother  she  doth  chide  me, 
Yet  I  will  not  leave  my  dear ; 
But  I  will  do  my  best  for  you,  to  please  you  shall  be  all  my  care."  30 

xii*       "And  be  first  on  my  feet,  to  make  a  Collection." 

"  Lay  aside  all  ill  suspicion,  doubt  not  of  my  poor  condition, 
Banish  all  such  dread  and  fear  ; 
Why  may  not  we  as  well  agree,  as  those  who  have  thousands  a  year  ? 

"  It's  known  that  we  came  all  from  Adam  ;  Moll  and  Joan  as  well  as  Madam, 
Then  why  should  we  then  not  agree 
With  our  descent  to  be  content,  as  Madam,  though  in  silks  she  be  ?  "  40 

"  My  love,  what  need  we  care  for  riches  ?  it's  a  thing  the  heart  bewitches ; 
Dung  and  dross  we  may  it  call ; 
But  perfect  Love  is  far  above  all  Riches  that  on  some  do  fall. 

"  What  need  we  to  frown  or  quarrel  ?  'tis  but  meat,  drink,  and  apparel, 
In  this  world  we  can  desire. 
My  love  to  you  it  is  as  true  as  the[irs]  that  walk  in  silk  attire,     \_texl,  '  them.' 

"  I  like  the  words  which  thou  hast  spoken,  if  your  vows  are  never  broken, 
Yet  I  doubt  how  things  may  fall ; 
If  you  prove  kind,  you'l  please  my  mind,  lor  true  Love  is  the  best  of  all." 

"  Say  no  more,  my  love,  about  it ;  we  will  live  in  love,  ne'r  doubt  it : 
I  would  have  you  nothing  fear. 
The  poor,  I  see,  as  well  agree,  as  those  that  have  thousands  a  year.  60 

Come,  Maid,  fill  us  one  full  quart  in,  that  we  may  both  drink  at  parting, 

Since  we  cannot  longer  stay  ; 
Come,  here's  to  you,  and  so  adieu  !  until  we  meet  another  day." 

[Probably  written  by  Tobias  Bowne.] 


Printed  for  P\hilip\  BrooJcsby,  at  the  Golden-Ball  in  Pije-Corner. 

[In  Black-letter.     Two  woodcuts,  each   of   two   figures,  the   1st  given  in  our 
Bayford  Ballads,  p.  563  ;  2nd,  here  on  p.  208.     Date,  168|  or  1683.] 

Tobias  was  too  sensible  a  man  to  be  the  slave  of  crotchets, 
whims,  or  silly  'fads,'  and  managed  to  make  the  best  of  the  world 
in  which  he  found  himself,  instead  of  yelping  as  a  Social  Re  former 
whose  eyes  and  ears  admit  nothing  without  prejudice.  We  take 
his  lessons  thankfully,  'and  so  say  all  of  us.' 

It  may  be  of  no  use  (except  at  generous  Plymouth  and  Thanet)  for 
the  Editor  to  do,  what  is  rightfully  the  business  of  the  Secretary- 
Treasurer,  viz.  to  urge  strenuously  the  Members  of  the  Ballad  Society 
to  pay  up  arrears  of  subscriptions,  and  enable  printers  to  complete 
this  work.  Therefore  we  leave  the  matter  alone,  without  so  much 
as  a  hint  that  guineas  are  needed.  "  0  no !  we  never  mention  it," 
except  where  an  old  ballad,  on  p.  53,  says  "  down  with  your  dust." 

January  20,  1890. 


[This  cut  belongs  to  pp.  164,  189.] 

Editorial  Preface  to  Part  XX.  .... 

The  Lancashire  Lovers  :  wooing  of  Thomas  and  Betty.     (By  P.) 

Tobie's  Delight.     By  Tobias  Bowne 

JErrata  and  Addenda         ..... 

Laborare  est  Orare.     (Trowbesh  MS.) 

Acrostic  Sonnet,  Dedicatory  to  Joseph  Knight,  Esq.    . 
The  Tradesman's  Complaint  upon  the  Hardness  of  the  Times 
The  Clothier's  Delight;   or,  The  Eieh  Men's  Joy,  etc. 
The  Poet's  Dream  ;  against  Bailiffs  and  their  Dogs     . 

'  Sawney  was  tall,  and  of  noble  race.'     By  Tom  D'TJrfey 

Jenny's  Answer  to  Sawney  ;  or,  The  Inconstant  Lover  Despised 
A  True  Character  of  Sundry  Trades  and  Callings 
The  Naked  Truth  ;  or,  A  New  Song  without  a  Lye   . 
Invincible  Pride  of  Women  ;  The  London  Tradesman's  Lament 
The  West-Country  Weaver,  his  Sorrowful  Lamentation 

Song  in  Praise  of  The  Bonny  Milk-Maid.     By  Tom  D'Urfey    . 

The  Innocent  Country-Maid's  Delight.     (See  Reply,  p.  238.) 
The  Happy  Husband-man  ;  or,  Country  Innocence 
Huntington-shire  Plow-man  ;  or,  The  Plowman's  Complaint  . 
The  Shoemaker's  Delight ;  or,  A  New  Dialogue 
The  Gentle  Craft's  Complaint ;    or,  Shoe-maker's  Petition 
The  Honest  Tradesman's  Honour  Vindicated,  etc. 

A  May-Day  Remembrance  of  Cornwall.     (Trowbesh  MS.) 

A  Very  Godly  Song,  Petition  of  the  Clerk  of  Bodnam 
Fancy's  Phoenix;  or,  The  Peerless  Paragon  of  the  Times 
Fancy's  Favourite;  or,  The  Mirror  of  the  Times.     By  C.H. 










The  Sorrowful  Lamentation  of  the  Pedlars  and  petty  Chapmen       46 

A  Pleasant  New  Song  :  '  My  Life  and  my  Death'        .  .        48 

An  Answer  to  it,  by  Tom  D'TJrfey  :  Love  Unblinded  .  .   Ibid. 

The  Jovial  Pedlar  ;  or,  A  Merry  New  Ditty  .  .  .49 

The  Proud  Pedlar  :   '  So  merrily  singeth  the  Nightingale.'       .       51 

The  St.  Giles's  Broker,  buying  a  Green  Goose  .  .       52 

News  from  More-Lane  :  A  Frolic  of  a  Tapster  with  a  Colt     .       55 

The  Cries  of  London  (a.d.  1747-1759)  .  .  .57 

The  Three  Worthy  Butchers  of  the  North.     By  Paul  Burges.       59 

A  New  Ballad  of  the  Three  Merry  Butchers  .  .  .62 

Some  Luck,  Some  Wit :  Mary  Carleton,  the  German  Princess       64 

(For  '  Carleton's  Epithalamium,'  see  p.  230  post.) 

A  Lamentable  Ditty  on  the  Death  of  George  Stoole     .  .68 

The  Life  and  Death  of  George  of  Oxford  ;  with  his  Confession       70 
Geordie  :  the  earliest-known  printed  Scots  version        .  -72 

Room  for  a  Jovial  Tinker :   Old  Brass  to  Mend            .  .       74 

The  Old  Pudding-pye  "Woman,  set  forth  in  her  Colours  .        77 

The  Ragman.     By  John  Lookes     .                .                .  .78 

The  May-Day  Country  Mirth              .             .             .  .79 

'Joan  to  the  May-Pole' :  original,  1630       .                .  .81 

The  Royal  Recreation  of  Jovial  Anglers          .              .  .82 

The  Virgin  Race ;  or,  Yorkshire's  Glory         .              .  .84 

A  New  Song,  on  Eclipse,  his  foot-race  at  Drax,  Yorkshire  .       85 

The  Hunting  of  the  Hare       .              .              .              .  .87 

Princely  Diversion  :  The  Trusley  Hare-Hunting  Song  .    .    91 

A  New  Hunting  Song,  A  Fox-Chace  from  Craythorne  .       93 

A  New  Fox-Hunting  Song,  the  Cleaveland  Hounds,  1785  .       95 

Editorial  Entr'Acte  :  ending  '  Group  of  Trades  and  Sports  '  .        96 

&  (group  of  Cupfrj  Ballatis. 

"  Cupid,  thou  art  a  sluggish  Boy  !  "     (1658.)               .                .  97 

Cupid's  Delight ;  or,  The  Two  Young  Lovers  broyled  in  Love  98 

Cupid's  Wanton  Wiles;  Friendly  Advice.     By  Laurence  Price  100 

The  Dainty  Damsel's  Dream  ;  or,  Cupid's  Vision.  By  the  same.  102 

The  Maid's  Revenge  upon  Cupid  and  Venus.     By  the  same   .  104 

The  Kind  Mistress  ("  Long  days  of  Absence")            .              .  106 

The  Noble  Gallant ;  or,  Answer  to  "  Long  days  of  Absence."  107 

The  London  Lad's  Lamentation  to  Cupid  ("  Chloe's  face,"  &c.)  109 

A  Fairing  for  Young  Men  and  Maids.     By  Tobias  Bowne      .  Ill 

A  Pleasant  new  song  of  Two  Valentines  and  their  Lovers       .  114 

No  Drawing  of  Valentines.     By  "Wni.  Cartwright,  1637             .  H5 

To  his  Mistress,  A  Valentine.     By  Robert  Herrick,  before  1638.  Ibid. 

The  London  Lasse's  Lamentation  ;  or,  Her  Fear  lest  she,  etc.  1 16 
The  Young  Women  and  Maidens'  Lamentation            .              .117 

"  Cupid,  thou  art  a  wanton  boy"  (before  1659:  compare  p.  97)  J 18 

Love's  Overthrow  (lost  from  Roxburghe  Coll.,  now  retrieved)  119 





The  Slighted  Maid  ;  or,  The  Pining  Lover     .  .  .122 

"  My  lodging  upon  the  cold  floor  is."     (By  Hon.  J.  Howard.)      124 
"  Lie  still,  my  babe,  lie  still  and  sleep  !  "     (Ibid.)      .  .   Ibid. 

Post- Dedication  to  George  Steinman-Steinman,  Esq.,  F.S.A.     .   Ibid. 

&  ffiroup  of  Jftatrhnonial  Ballaos. 

Dedicace  a.  M.  Alexandre  Beljame,  Docteur-es-Lettres,  etc.         .      125 
(Editorial)  Andromeda  Eediviva,  with  a  Rock  Ahead  .  .126 

(Editorial)  Four  Conditions  of  Woman :  Madme. et  ces  Demoiselles      128 
"  Jenny  is  poor,  and  I  am  poor  "     .  .  .  -129 

The  Oxfordshire  Damosel ;  or,  The  London  Merchant's  Choice     134 
A  Week's  Loving,  Wooing,  and  Wedding;  or,  Happy  is  the 

Wooing  that  is  not  long  a  Dooing  .  .  .136 

"  I  married  my  "Wife  on  a  Sunday,"  etc.        .  .  .      137 

A  Match  at  a  Venture  ;  or,  Time  and  Opportunity  won  the  Day     1 38 
The  more  Haste,  the  worse  Speed;  or,  The  Maid's  Complaint     141 
The  Virtuous  Maid's  Eesolution  ;  or,  The  Two  Honest  Lovers     144 
Wonderful  Praise  of  a  Good  Husband  ;  The  Mother's  Counsel.     147 
A  Merry  Dialogue,  Thomas  and  John  :  on  Women  and  Wine     149 
Tobias'  Advice  ;  or,  A  Remedy  for  a  Ranting  Young-man      .     151 
Tobie's  Experience  Explain'd  (concerning  Hostesses).  .     153 

Tobias'  Observation  (of  a  couple  at  a  Pair,  Cf.  Preface,  p.  xi*)     155 
The  New  Way  of  Marriage  ;  or,  John  and  Kate's  Contract      .     158 
The  Kind-hearted  Creature  ;  or,  The  Prettiest  Jest,  etc.         .     160 
Rock  the  Cradle,  John.    By  Laurence  Price.     ( Cut  on  p.  xiii*)     162 
The  Bonny  Bryer ;  or,  A  Lancashire  Lass,  etc.     By  Martin 

Parker.     (See  companion  ballad  in  Preface,  p.  ix*)         .     165 
The  Northern  Lass's  Lamentation ;  or,  The  Unhappy  Maid's 

Misfortune.     Probably  by  Martin  Parker  ".  .168 

The  Northern  Lad;  or,  The  Fair  Maid's  Choice         .  .171 

The  Fickle  Northern  Lass  ;   or,  The  Shepherd's  Resolution    .     173 
The  True  Lover's  Victory  ;  or,  The  Northern  Couple  agreed  .     176 
The  Trappan'd  Virgin  ;  or,  Good  Advice  to  Maidens  .  .     178 

A  Young  Man  put  to  his  Shifts  ;   or,  Ranting  Resolution        .     179 
The  Patient  Husband  and  the  Scolding  Wife.  .  .182 

The  Woman  to  the  Plough,  and  the  Man  to  the  Hen-roost. 

Probably  by  Martin  Parker         .  .  .  .185 

My  Wife  will  be  my  Master;  Married  Man's  Complaint         .     188 

The  Woman  Outwitted;  or,  The  Weaver's  Wife  in  a  Trap     .     190 

"  What  hap  had  I  to  marry  a  Shrow  !  "—From  Pammelia,  1609      191 

The  Scolding  Wife     .  .  .  .  .  .192 

The  Scolding  Wife's  Vindication  ;    or,  An  Answer,  etc.  .     197 

The  New  German  Doctor  ;  A  Cure  for  a  Scolding  Wife  .     198 

TJnconstant  William.     (For  Ansiver  to  it  see  p.  231.)  .     200 

Kind  William  ;  or,  Constant  Betty     .  .  .  .201 

The  Wounded  Lover's  Lamentation  to  Silvia  ("  You  I  love  ")   .      202 

XVI*  CONTENTS    OF    PA15T    XX. 


The  Hasty  Wedding  ;   or,  William's  Patience  Rewarded  .     203 

The  Wiltshire  Wedding  of  Daniel  and  Doll  .  .  .205 
The  Winchester  Wedding;  or,  Ralph  of  Reading  and  Black 

Bess  of  the  Green.     By  Tom  D'Urfey,  1682-84  .  .     208 

Roger's  Delight ;     or,    The    West-Country    Christening  and 

Gossiping.     By  Tom  D'Urfey,  before  1688          .  .210 

The  Wanton  Wife  of  Bath.     (Before  1616.)  .              .  .     213 

©nto  of  *  fHatrimonial  anti  &ntt=fHatrimontal  Ballads       .    216 

A  Strange  Banquet,   given  by  Cock-Lorrell  at  the  Peak  of 

Derbyshire.     By  Ben  Jonson,  1613         .  .  .219 

The  Pryar  well  fitted  ;  or,  A  Pretty  Jest  that  once  befell,  etc.     222 

The  Unconscionable  Batchelors  of  Derby         .  .  .     225 

An  Ancient  Song  of  Bartholomew  Fair,  in  1655  .  .      227 

The  Unfortunate   Lover  ;    or,  Merry- Andrew's  loss  of  Joan     229 
The  Westminster  Wedding  ;  or,  Carleton's  Epithalamium  .      230 

An  Answer  to  '  Unconstant  William.'  .  .  .231 

The  Northern   Ditty;  or,    The    Scotchman    Outwitted.     By 

Tom  D'Urfey      .  .  .  .  .  .233 

An  Answer  to  '  Cold  and  Raw  '  .  .  .      234 

A  Third  Merry  Ditty  of  '  Cold  and  Raw  '      .  .  -235 

Roger's  Renown  ;  or  the  Fourth  Merry  Ditty  of  '  Cold  and  Raw.'      236 
The   Ploughman's   Reply  to   the  Merry   Milkmaid's   Delight.      238 

Editorial  Intermezzo  :  Ballade  de  Notre  Temps  .  .     240 


T/ffF  who  need  no  persona  ingrata, 

To  growl  and  pick  holes  in  our  coat, 
Here  furnish  a  List  of  Errata, 

Which  pro  temp,  our  kind  readers  should  note  : 
Since,  despite  all  our  care,  and  our  printers', 

Being  fallible  mortals,  alas  ! 
We  have  found  out  a  few  blots  and  splinters  : 
Please  to  cancel,  and  not  let  them  pass. 

Page    9. — For  Beneage  Finch,  read  John,  Lord  Finch,  as  rightly  on  p.  103. 

19. — The  woodcut  of  two  men  going  to  dig  gravel  is  on  p."  196. 

23.— The  woodcuts  are  given  on  p.  133  (=vi.  p.  243).     Chronos  has 
brought  together  into  silence  the  two  who  differed  in  opinion. 

28,  and  p.  43. — The  Milkmaid  cut  is  on  p.  168,  left,  with  Mercer  of  p.  83. 

32.— The  tune  of  My  child  must  have  a  father  is  identified  on  p.  99. 

51. — Read  part  is  here;  remainder  on  p.  54. 

83.  — The  woodcut  of  Exchange  haberdasher  is  added  on  p.  168,  right. 
105. — Reference  to  woodcut  of  woman  with  fan  should  be  vi.  166  ;  not  16. 
108. — The  woodcut  of  youth,  vi.  50,  is  given  on  p.  203,  right. 
110. — Read  '  thank  you  too  ;  '  an  accidental  slip  of  g  for  y. 
125. — Third  line,  delete  words  preceding  the  bracket  {Vingtihne  Siecle). 
187. — Square-bracket,  for  p.  163,  p.  166,  read  respectively  p.  162,  p.  165. 

$roup  of  CraDesmen  $  Sportsmen. 

~\,T  Y  heart  felt  sore,  Son  o/Adam  ! 
-L'-L     ][£y  heart  still  is  heavy  for  you, 
At  the  beck  of  each  Cit,  Miss,  or  Madam, 
With  so  very  much  too-much  to  do  ! — 
My  experience  of  life  having  shown  me 
{Breaking  manacle,  fetter  and  chain,) 
Social  bondage  might  soon  have  o 'er ■thrown  me  ; 
But  I  scorn' d  to  sell  Freedom  for  gain. 

Chronos  warns  us  'Near  Twelve,''  Son  o/Adam  ! 

My  own  life-spring  is  well-nigh  unwound  ; 
Was  it  worth  while  to  mutter  a  sad  damn, 

Because,  either  way,  Failure  we  found  ? 
Nay,  truly,  though  foot-sore  and  weary 

Both  pilgrims  may  long  for  their  rest, 
Sloth  we  conquer' d,  'tivixt  Goblin  and  Feri  : 

Whether  paid  or  un-paid,  Work  ivas  best. 

— Laborare  est  Orare  :  Trowbesk  MSS. 

popular  since  the  earliest  days  of  ballads  and 
songs.  When  a  man  begins  to  sing  we  need 
not  make  him  swear  on  the  Koran  or  the 
Testament  that  he  is  not  the  character  he 
represents  himself  to  be,  and  he  may  assume 
whatever  virtues  or  vices  are  in  keeping  with 
the  part.  Descendants  of  the  earlier  Civil- 
war  fanatics,  '  zealous  congregations,'  showed 
more  favour  to  dreary  sententiousness  than  to 
rollicking  fun  or  the  tender  sentiment  of  love- 
ditties  :  all  the  vendors  of  penny  broadsides  knew  where  to  find 
such  cattle,  and  how  to  profitably  disperse  their  pedlar-wares.  This 
the  multitude  of  extant  '  Godly  Warnings '  amply  proves.  _  Such 
heavy  articles,  howsoever  insincerely  fabricated,  found  a  rapid  sale 

VOL.    VII.  K 

2  What  the  Trades  have  to  offer  here,  of  Ballads. 

among  our  unctuous  hypocrites  or  acrid  Puritans,  and  perhaps 
neither  camp  yet  lacks  followers.  The  singer  assumed  a  double 
mask.  Sometimes  he  chose  to  be  a  repentant  Prodigal ;  sometimes 
the  Prodigal's  aggrieved  and  pious  father  who  rebuked  his  unre- 
pentant son,  but  displayed  a  close  acquaintance  with  all  his  haunts 
of  vice,  without  the  fellow-feeling  making  him  wondrous  kind. 
His  favourite  attitude  appeared  to  be  standing  on  the  ladder  of  the 
gallows,  making  a  last  dying  speech  and  confession  of  past  wicked- 
ness. This  gave  grand  opportunities  for  histrionic  details  and 
exhortation.  He  might  be  a  Highwayman,  an  unfortunate  apprentice 
like  George  Barnwell  who  had  gone  wrong  after  'the  Dolly-mops,' 
or  even  a  'German  Princess'  like  Mary  Carleton:  to  all  of  whom  we 
shall  listen  in  these  pages.  At  the  very  least,  he  could  pretend 
to  be  an  Expiring  Christian,  in  the  strong  odour  of  sanctity ;  even 
a  '  Clerk  of  Bodmin '  (as  on  p.  40)  :  Cornwall  being  always  prone 
to  sanctimoniousness,  a  Truro-rural  county,  whose  turbulent  miners 
delve  for  Tin  and  Theology  in  darkened  underground  explorations, 
with  their  own  worldliness  and  other-worldliness  discomforted. 

With  a  "  Group  of  Trades  and  or  Sports  "  we  begin  this  final 
volume  of  ^ftoilmrghc  ISallabs  :  a  second  special  group  of  the  Seamen 
and  Sailors  coming  a  little  later.  Sometimes  the  tradesmen  bemoan 
the  '  Hardness  of  the  Times '  (but  when  were  the  times  such  as 
could  he  wished  ?  the  laws  of  supply  and  demand  are  enforced  with 
the  suffering  of  the  many  and  the  gain  of  the  few).     They  enquire, 

"  Oh  !  where  are  now  those  golden  Springs,  [miep.  "times." 

"When  Gold  was  counted  [with]  needless  things  ? 
None  loved  his  Neighbour  for  a  self [ish]  end, 
But  once  and  always  stood  his  friend. 
Yet  now,  through  want,  times  altered  are, 
Each  in  himself  is  a  Man  of  "War, 

Trading  being  dead  and  Money  scant, 

Is  the  subject  of  this  sad  Complaint"  [vide,  p.  4. 

The  Pedlars  and  petty  Chapmen,  who  were  the  flying  stationers 
of  their  day,  utter  a  '  Sorrowful  Lamentation,'  declaring  that  "  The 
times  are  grown  hard,  more  harder  than  stone."  One  London 
tradesman  laments  the  prodigality  of  his  wife,  to  the  ironically 
incongruous  tune  of  The  Spinning  Wheel.  On  the  other  hand,  we 
find  the  handicrafts  rejoicing  in  their  various  callings,  whether  it 
be  a  'Clothier's  Delight'  or  a  '  Shoe-maker's  Delight; '  they  seek 
enjoyment,  in  '  The  Boyal  Recreation  of  Jovial  Anglers.'  In  contrast 
with  a  sorrowful  citizen,  befooled  and  pummelled  by  a  '  Courageous 
Ploughman,'  or  a  'Braggadocio  Gentleman'  confuted  in  dialogue 
when  he  hears  '  The  Honest  Tradesman's  Honour  Vindicated ' 
(for  which  see  our  p.  37),  we  have  the  always-welcome  praise  of  pure 
'Country  Innocence'  by  'The  Happy  Husbandman,'  who  sings, 
'  My  young  Mary  does  mind  her  dairy  ; '  the  '  Faithful  Young 
Farmer's  hearty  wooing  of  his  Nanny ; '  '  The  Plowman's  Answer 

"A  Gentle  KNIGHT  was  pricking  on  the  Piaine."        3 

to  the  Milk-maid's  Delight,'  and  '  The  Innocent  Country  Maid's 
Delight'  in  her  description  of  the  happiness  attendant  on  those 
"Who  carry  the  Milking-pail "  (see  for  two,  pp.  29,  27).  We 
have  also  the  stalwart  deeds  recorded  of  '  Three  Worthy  Butchers 
of  the  North,'  who  might  have  been  safely  summoned  on  a 
Jury.  Are  there  not  a  '  West-country  Weaver,'  a  '  Jovial  Pedlar,' 
a  '  St.  Giles's  Broker,'  seeking  to  buy  a  green  goose  and  getting  it 
very  green  indeed  ;  each  and  all  songful,  willing  to  relate  the 
experience  of  their  lives  for  our  behoof  ?  What  more  can  any  one 
demand  as  a  beginning  ?  After  this  orchestral  tuning  of  the  fiddles, 
let  the  curtain  be  drawn,  the  play  begin,  and  everything  go 
smoothly  till  the  end  of  our  Seventh  Volume.  Pew  of  the  Editor's 
early  companions,  Old  Stagers,  may  survive  to  give  it  a  plaudite, 
but  those  who  quit  their  seats  early  should  transfer  their  pass-out 
checks  to  Executors,  helping  us  with  necessary  subscriptions. 

This  fikst  'ffiroup  of  GTratieg  anti  Sports'  is 

En  SCffecttmiate  SEgteem, 

To  One  -whose  Knowledge  of  our  English  Drama  is  that  of  a 

Scholar,  unrivalled  also  in  recognising  the  excellence 

of  Acting,  with  competent  judgment  of  the  trained 

Critic  ;   generously   according   praise   where 

praise   may   be   deserved  j    never  unkind 

or  unjust,  when  constrained 

to  condemn. 

rpKHO  UGH  rain  and  sleet,  where  wild  winds  rage  and  moil, 
-^      On  many  a  cheerless  road,  men  journeying  fret, 
Jaded,  till  from  thy  hand  warm  clasp  they  get, 

Old  Friend  .'  whom  Time  and  Chance  lack  power  to  spoil. 

Soon  Shuffling-off  their  weary  mortal-coil, 
Even  as  they  flung  hence  garments  soiled  or  wet, 
Pleased  to  have  paid  in  full  stern  Nature's  debt, 

Haste  they  to  climes  where  none  shall  grieve  or  toil. 

Keep  on  thy  way  !  secure  of  love  and  praise, 
Never  repining,  while  our  tvorld  may  wag  ; 

Is  there  one  grudges  thee  thy  blithesome  days  ? 
Good- Fellowship  can  nowhere  pine  or  flag 

Holding  thy  genial  presence,  that  out-weighs 
Ten-fold  each  prize  in  Fortune's  Lucky-Bag . 

7.viii.l88&.  J-  W.  E. 

[Boxburghe  Collection,  II.  454.     Apparently  unique.] 

Cl)e  Qxabtsman's  Complaint 

CUpon  tf)t  ^aromas  of  tge  ^imeg,  SDeaomag  of  ^raor, 
atto  §>carc«p  of  apomp* 

Wherein  he  sighs  and  makes  great  moan, 
How  trading  is  (almost)  fled  and  gone  : 
He  intreats  all  men,  in  each  degree, 
To  help  in  this  his  want  and  misery. 

To  the  Tl-ne  of,  In  Summer  time,  etc. ;  or,  Phancie's  Phoenix} 

OH  where  are  now  those  golden  [Springs],      ['these  .  .  times.' 
When  gold  was  counted  [with]  needless  things? 
None  loved  his  neighbour  for  a  self  [ish]  end, 
But  once  and  always  stood  his  friend  : 
But  now  through  want  times  altered  are, 
Each  in  himself  a  man  of  War  : 

Trading  being  dead  and  money  scant, 

Is  the  subject  of  this  sad  Complaint.  8 

The  time  has  been,  that  in  this  land, 
A  man's  word  was  as  good  as  his  band: 
The  time  is  now  as  you  may  see, 
New  Faith  hath  kill'd  Old  Honesty  : 

1  On  the  many  ballads  beginning  "In  Summer-time,"  see  pp.  274,  283,  570, 
745,  789,  790  of  vol.  vi.,  and  the  'Robin  Hood  Group'  in  this  vol.  vii.  But 
Phancie's  Phoenix,  i.e.  Fancie's  Phoenix,  is  given  on  pp.  42-45,  beginning  "  Come, 
all  you  Bachelors,"  with  '  Fancie's  Favourite  '="  Come,  come  away,  you 
maidens  fair,"  written  by  C.  H.,  to  the  same  tune.  Query,  the  C.H.  of  vi.  323  ? 

The  Tradesman's  Complaint  of  Hard  Times.  5 

There  is  so  much  hatred  one  to  th'  other, 
That  there  is  none  that  loves  his  brother  : 

Oh  all  good  men  of  each  degree, 

Learn  to  live  in  Love  and  Unity.  1 6 

The  time  has  been  in  this  city  round 

A  man  might  in  a  morning  take  a  pound : 

The  time  is  now,  though  in  's  shop  he  stay, 

Yet  scarce  takes  twelve  pence  all  the  day  : 

Trading's  so  dead,  and  money  scant, 

Is  subject  of  this  sad  complaint : 

Oh  all  good  men  of  each  degree, 

Eedress  our  Countrie's  misery.  24 

The  times  have  been,  what  tradesmen  gain'd, 
Hath  decently  their  charge  maintain'd ; 
The  time  is  now,  through  trade's  decay, 
In  street  they  beg,  oh  well-a-day  ! 
Trading  is  so  dead,  and  money  scant, 
Is  subject  of  this  sad  complaint : 

Oh  all  good  men  of  each  degree, 

Help  to  redress  our  misery.  32 

The  time  has  been,  each  Rich  Man's  door 
"Was  seldom  shut  against  the  poor ; 
The  time  is  now,  some  wives  go  fine, 
They  care  not  though  the  begger  pine  : 
Trading  being  dead  makes  times  so  hard, 
Poor  people  cry  without  regard  : 

Oh  all  good  men  of  each  degree, 

Help  to  regard  our  misery.  40 

In  elder  times  it  was,  indeed, 
The  Rich  would  help  the  poor  man's  need : 
The  time  is  now,  so  themselves  be  serv'd, 
They  care  not  if  poor  people  be  starv'd  : 
Trading  being  dead,  makes  times  so  hard, 
The  Rich  the  poor  do  not  regard  : 

Oh  all  good  men  of  each  degree, 

Help  to  redress  our  misery.  48 

For  dearth  of  trade  all  men  complain, 
How  can  poor  men  their  Charge  maintain  ? 
Hardness  of  times  makes  many  rue, 
How  can  we  give  Caesar  his  due  ? 
Money's  so  scant  through  trade's  decay, 
"Which  makes  poor  tradesmen  sigh  and  say, 
1 '  Oh  all  good  men  of  each  degree, 
Help  to  release  our  misery. ,"  56 

6  The  Tradesman* 's  Complaint  of  Hard  Times. 

The  Courtier  he  complains  for  gold ; 
To  whom  the  tradesmen  wares  hath  sold, 
And  having  run  so  on  his  score, 
He's  forced,  alas !  to  shut  up  door  : 
Times  being  so  hard  through  trade's  decay, 
It  makes  poor  tradesmen  sigh  and  say, 
"  Oh  all  good  Men  of  each  degree, 
Help  us  in  our  necessity  /  "  64 

The  poor  Country-Man  he  doth  complain 
Of  the  loss  of  his  cattle  and  grain, 
Rents  being  so  dear,  and  money  scant, 
Makes  him  mourn  forth  this  sad  complaint : 
Which  makes  him  sigh  and  make  great  moan, 
Whose  grief  would  melt  a  heart  of  stone  : 
"  Oh  all  good  men  of  each  degree, 
Help,  help  us  in  our  poverty."  72 

That  trade  may  flourish  here  again, 
That  plenty  may  amongst  us  raign, 
That  great  men's  charity  may  show, 
And  pay  poor  men  what  they  do  owe  : 
It  is  my  prayer,  and  let  all  men 
To  this  Petition,  say,  Amen  ! 

Oh  all  good  men  of  each  degree, 

Learn  to  live  in  Love  and  Unity.  80 


Printed  for  J.  Counters,  neer  the  Marshalsee  in  Southwark. 

[In  Black-letter,  -with  three  woodcuts.     1st,  the  Blacksmiths,  on  p.  4  ;  2nd,  two 
men  alternately  beating  a  coil  of  hemp  ;  3rd,  the  men  as  on  p.  7.   Date,  c.  1682.] 

Che  Clothier's  Delight. 

PEOPLE  ignorantly  suppose  that  the  "Sweating  system"  is  a  modern  inno- 
vation. This  satirical  ballad  offers  evidence  to  the  contrary.  It  claims 
to  be  a  song  of  triumph,  celebrating  "  The  Clothiers'  Delight "  at  their  own 
prosperity,  but  it  does  not  redound  to  their  credit,  if  we  read  between  the 
lines.  The  Drapers'  Company  is  one  of  the  most  generous  among  our  many 
excellent  City  Guilds  (none  dearer  to  us  personally  than  the  Worshipful  Company 
of  the  Tallow  Chandlers  on  Dowgate-Hill,  whose  guest  we  have  often  had  the 
honour  to  be).  But  the  ballad  is  bitterly  in  disparagement  of  the  Master- 
Clothiers,  representing  them  as  exacting,  greedy,  selfish,  and  oppressive  to 
their  poor  workpeople.  We  see  no  reason  to  doubt  the  truth  of  the  ballad 
in  regard  to  the  City  men  of  1682.     Capitalists  were  the  same  at  all  times. 

%*  Tunes  named:  1st,  "  Jenny,  come  tye  my  bonny  Cravat  /"  is  the  burden  of 
an  amatory  ballad,  beginning,  "As  Johnny  met  Jenny  a  going  one  day,"  to 
which  Roxb.  Coll.,  II.  420,  is  the  sequel  or  "  Second  Part  of  the  new  Scotch 
Jigg ;  or,  Jenny's  reply  to  Johnny1  s  Cravat."  This  begins,  "As  Jenny  sate 
under  a  sycamore  tree."  2nd,  Fackinyton's  Found,  see  vol.  vi.  p.  331.  3rd, 
Monk  hath  confounded,  see  vol.  vi.  pp.  136,  137. 

[Eoxburghe  Collection,  IV.  35.     Apparently  Unique.] 

Ct)e  Clotlner'0  2Dettgt)t : 

£)r,  Z$z  Kicg  spnt'sS  Sfop,  ano  tge  poor  flpm'0  §>ottoto* 
Mfymin  tg  cjpregt  tge  craftiness  ant)  subtiltp  of 
manp  Clotgtergs  m  England,  op  beating  ooton  tgfic 
^orfe-men^  toages* 

Combers,  Weavers,  and  Spinners,  for  little  gains, 
Doth  earn  their  money  by  taking  of  hard  pains. 

To  the  Tune  of,  Jenny,  come  tye  my  [bonny  Cravat],  etc.,  Packing  ton's  Pound, 
or,  Monk  hath  confounded,  etc.    [For  Note  on  tunes,  see  p.  6.] 

OF  all  sorts  of  callings,  that  in  England  be, 
There  is  none  that  liveth  so  gallant  as  we ; 
Our  Trading  maintains  us  as  brave  as  a  knight, 
We  live  at  our  pleasure,  and  taketh  delight : 
We  heap  up  [of]  riches  and  treasure  great  store,       ["neapeth." 
"Which  we  get  by  griping  and  grinding  the  poor. 
And  this  is  a  way  for  to  fill  up  our  purse, 
Although  we  do  get  it  icith  many  a  curse.  8 

Throughout  the  whole  kingdom,  in  country  and  town, 

There  is  no  danger  of  our  Trade  going  down, 

So  long  as  the  Comber  can  work  with  his  Comb, 

And  also  the  Weaver  weave  in  his  Lomb  :  [=Loom. 

The  Tucker  and  Spinner,  who  spins  all  the  year, 

We  will  make  them  to  earn  their  wages  full  dear. 

And  this  is  the  ivay  [for  to  fill  up  our  purse'],  etc.  16 

8  The  Clothiers'  Delight,  and  subtlety. 

In  former  ages  we  us'd  to  give, 

So  that  our  work -folks  like  farmers  did  live  ; 

But  the  times  are  altered,  we  will  make  them  know 

All  we  can  for  to  hring  them  all  under  our  bow  : 

"We  will  make  them  to  work  hard  for  sixpence  a  day, 

Though  a  shilling  they  deserve  if  they  had  their  full  pay. 

And  this  is  the  way  [for  to  fill  up  our  Purse],  etc.  24 

And  first  for  the  Combers,  we  will  bring  them  down 

From  eight-groats  a  score  unto  half  a  Crown  : 

If  at  all  they  murmur,  and  say  'tis  too  small, 

We  bid  them  cho[o]se  whether  they  will  work  at  all. 

We'l  make  them  believe  that  Trading  is  bad, 

We  care  not  a  pin,  though  they  are  ne'r  so  sad. 

And  this  is  the  way  [for  to  fill  up  our  Purse],  etc.  32 

We'l  make  the  poor  Weavers  work  at  a  low  rate, 
We'l  find  fault  where's  no  fault,  and  so  we  will  bate  : 
If  trading  grows  dead,  we  will  presently  show  it ; 
But  if  it  grows  good,  they  shall  never  know  it : 
We'l  tell  them  that  Cloath  beyond  sea  will  not  go, 
We  care  not  whether  we  keep  cloathing  or  no. 

And  this  is  the  way  [for  to  fill  up  our  Purse],  etc.  40 

Then  next  for  the  Spinners  we  shall  ensue, 

We'l  make  them  spin  three  pound  instead  of  two  ; 

When  they  bring  home  their  work  unto  us,  they  complain 

And  say  that  their  wages  will  not  them  maintain : 

But  if  that  an  ounce  of  weight  they  do  lack, 

Then  for  to  bate  three  pence  we  will  not  be  slack. 

And  this  is  the  way  [for  to  fill  up  our  Purse],  etc.  48 

But  if  it  holds  weight,  then  their  wages  they  crave, 
We  have  got  no  money,  and  what's  that  you'd  have  ? 
We  have  bread  and  bacon,  and  butter  that's  good, 
With  oatmeal  and  salt,  that  is  wholesome  for  food  ; 
We  have  sope  and  candles  whereby  to  give  light, 
That  you  may  work  by  them  so  long  as  you  have  sight. 

And  this  is  the  way  \_for  to  fill  up  our  Purse],  etc.  56 

We  will  make  the  Tucker  and  Shereman  understand 
That  they  with  their  wages  shall  never  buy  land ; 
Though  heretofore  they  have  been  lofty  and  high, 
Yet  now  we  will  make  them  submit  humbly  ; 
We  will  lighten  their  wages  as  low  as  maybe, 
We  will  keep  them  under  in  every  degree. 

And  this  is  the  way  [for  to  fill  up  our  Purse],  etc.  64 

The  Clothiers'  .Delight,  and  subtlety.  9 

W  hen  we  go  to  Market,  our  workmen  are  glad  ; 
But  when  we  come  home,  then  we  do  look  sad, 
"We  sit  in  the  corner  as  if  our  hearts  did  ake, 
"We  tell  them  'tis  not  a  penny  we  can  take  : 
We  plead  poverty  before  we  have  need, 
And  thus  we  do  coaks  them  most  bravely  indeed. 

And  this  is  the  way  \_for  to  fill  up  our  Purse'],  etc.  72 

But  if  to  an  ale-house  they  customers  be, 
Then  presently  with  the  ale-wife  we  agree, 
"When  we  come  to  a  reckoning,  then  we  do  crave 
Two-pence  on  a  shilling,  and  that  we  will  have ; 
By  such  cunning  ways  we  our  treasure  do  get, 
For  it  is  all  fish  that  doth  come  to  our  net. 

And  this  is  the  way  \_for  to  fill  up  our  Purse],  etc.  80 

And  thus  we  do  gain  all  our  wealth  and  estate, 
By  many  poor  men  that  works  early  and  late  ; 
If  it  were  not  for  those  that  do  labour  full  hard, 
"We  might  go  and  hang  our  selves  without  regard  : 
The  Combers,  and  "Weavers,  and  Tuckers  also, 
"With  the  Spinners  that  worketh  for  wages  full  low  : 

By  these  people's  labours  we  fill  up  our  Purse,  etc.  88 

Then  hey  for  the  Cloathing-trade,  it  goes  on  brave ; 
"We  scorn  for  to  toyl  and  moyl,  nor  yet  to  slave  ; 
Our  Workmen  do  work  hard,  but  we  live  at  ease, 
We  go  when  we  will,  and  come  when  we  please  : 
We  hoard  up  our  bags  of  silver  and  gold, 
But  conscience  and  charity  with  us  is  cold. 

By  poor  people 's  labour  we  fill  up  our  purse, 

Although  we  do  get  it  with  many  a  curse. 

Printed  for  F.  Coles,  T.  Vere,  J.  Wright  and  J.  Clarice. 

[In  Black-letter,  -with  three  woodcuts.  The  1st  (left)  is  in  vol.  vi.  on  p.  163, 
left ;  the  2nd  on  our  p.  7  ;  the  3rd,  right  (a  poor  copy,  mutilated  of  his  wings, 
symbolical  of  his  name,  Heneage  Finch)  is  on  p.  517  of  Bagford  Ballads  : 
the  original  caricature  belonged  to  1640,  and  reappears  complete  in  "The 
Dainty  Damsel's  Dream  "  on  a  later  page.  In  the  first  stanza  "  taketh  "  was 
misprint  for  take  :  So  with  •  heapeth '  and '  worketh.''  Date  of  ballad,  circa  1679. 

Oppressive  and  purse-proud  clothiers,  whose  workmen  complained  of  them,  would 
be  the  very  people  to  hunt  down  debtors  with  "Bailiffs  and  their  Dogs  "  as  in 
the  next  ballad,  which  belongs  to  the  same  date,  1679,  or  a  few  months  later.] 



against  bailiffs;  ann  tbeir  Dogs. 

JEfte  ^ott'x  Steam. 

"  If  there  were  Dreams  to  sell, 
Merry  and  sad  to  tell, 
And  the  Crier  rung  the  hell, 
What  would  you  buy  ?  " 

— T.  L.  Beddoes,  Dream-Pedlary. 

HERE  is  so  much  conventicle  bitterness  in  this  odd  ballad,  with 
its  incidental  railing  against  an  Old-Street  "  Play-house  AVench  " 
(worthy  of  a  bigotted  Cirencestrian  Winterbotham  in  later  days), 
that  one  might  imagine  some  Praise-God  Barebones  had  indited 
it  before  the  rebellion  and  civil-wars.  But  all  the  evidence  attain- 
able combines  to  show  the  date  of  it  to  have  been  1679,  or  at  the  latest 
September,  1680.  Philip  Brooksby's  name  as  publisher  is  on  our 
Koxburghe  broadside,  his  period  being  1672-1695  ;  the  woodcut  was 
a  late  copy  (after  the  fire  of  1666),  representing  Prince  Rupert 
and  his  dog  '  Boy  ' ;  the  tune  of  Sawney  points  to  a  song  beginning 
"  Sawney  was  tall  and  of  noble  race,"  written  by  Tom  D'Urfey 
for  his  "Virtuous  Wife,"  Actiii.,  which  was  acted  in  1679,  a  song 
imitated  speedily  and  politically  parodied  in  disparagement  of 
Thomas  Osborne,  Earl  of  Danby,  as  "The  Disloyal  Favourite," 
beginning  "  Tommy  was  a  Lord  of  high  renown  "  (for  which  see 
pp.  85-89  of  our  reprinted  Roxburghe  Ballads,  vol.  iv.),  a  scathing 
jibe  from  the  Shaftesbury  faction.  The  prayer  for  a  fresh  parliament 
soon  to  be  given  to  the  nation,  with  the  sanctimonious  flattery 
applied  to  the  first  Lord  Shaftesbury  and  the  Earl  of  Essex  in  our 
final  stanza,  as  being  "  Christian-Peers  that  may  right  our  wrong, 
when  Heaven  yields  up  a  Parliament,"  serve  to  indicate  precisely 
the  unquiet  time  immediately  preceding  the  calling  of  Charles  II. 's 
fourth  parliament.  Summoned  in  October,  1679,  but  prorogued  on 
26  January  and  15  April  next  year,  it  did  not  actually  meet  and 
begin  stormily  its  discontented  work  until  October  21,  1680.  "We 
refer  readers  back  to  our  account  of  the  successive  parliaments,  their 
difficulties  and  their  gross  faults,  already  given  in  the  introduction 
to  "  Long-looked-for  Come  at  Last,"  in  vol.  iii.  pp.  189-196. 
Taken  thus,  in  connection  with  the  political  disaffection,  the  present 
ballad  becomes  doubly  interesting,  descriptive  of  the  time. 

It  may  be  well,  since  it  is  often  mentioned  in  ballad-literature,  to 
give  Tom  D'Urfey' s  Anglo-Scottish  song  complete,  on  p.  14.  The 
music  to  it  was  composed  by  his  friend  Thomas  Farmer  :  it  is  printed 
in  Fills  to  Purge  Melancholy,  i.  316,  1719  edition;  Playford's  Choice 
Ayres,  iii.  9,  1681  ;  and  Gha-p-peWs  Popular  Music  of  the  Olden  Time, 
p.  620.     D'Urfey  has  it  in  his  New  Collection  of  Songs,  p.  39,  1683. 


[Roxburghe  Coll.,  II.  254  ;  Pepys,  IV.  302  ;  Huth,  II.  56  ;  Jersey,  I.  73.] 

Cl)e  j&oet's  SDream: 

©r,  Che  <3xtRt  ©ut^ctg  ano  £amentafjle  Complaint  of  tlje  3Lanb 


Bapitffs  anD  ti)etr  SDogs. 

WLtyxzin  its  Eiptessea  tljeir  Uillanous  ©ut=rages  to  poor  fHen. 
OTtft  a  &rue  Hesctiptton  of  their  Itna&erg  ano  tljctr  ©elmuch'o 
Actions ;  pusctiueo  ano  pusEnteo  to  the  ineto  of  all  people. 

To  the  Tune  of,  Saiony  \ioill  ne'er  he  my  Love  again\  etc. 

AS  I  lay  slumbering  in  a  Dream, 
Methought  the  world  most  strangely  went ; 
The  Bayliffs  on  High  Seats  was  seen, 

Which  caus'd  the  Poor's  great  discontent. 
They  pluckt  true  Justice  from  the  Throne, 
Erecting  Laws  was  made  of  their  own, 
And  burthen'd  the  Poor  till  they  made  them  groan, 
And  that's  the  cause  that  the  Land  complains. 

12  The  Poet's  Bream,  of  Bailiffs  and  their  Dogs. 

Their  meeting-house  was  an  ale-wives  bench, 

Fix'd  in  a  Street  that  is  termed  Old  ;  [Old  street. 

Their  Speaker  was  an  a  Play-house-Wench, 
Both  whore  and  thief,  and  a  devilish  scold. 

She'd  guzzel  brandy,  wine,  or  ale, 

And  then  she'd  at  her  neighbours  rail, 

And  send  for  the  BaylifFs  to  have  them  to  Jayl, 

And  that's  the  cause  that  the  Zand  complains.  16 

Methoughts  a  mighty  Hunting-match, 

Was  made  by  Bayliffs  and  their  Currs  ; 
Poor  men  was  the  deer  they  strove  to  catch, 

The  houses  plac'd  in  the  room  of  f  urrs  :  [i.e.  Firs. 

The  suburbs-round  it  was  their  park, 
The  BaylifFs  yell,  the  dogs  did  bark, 
The  poor  kept  as  close  as  Noah  in  the  Ark, 

And  that's  the  cause  that  the  Land  complains.  24 

Then  Shephard  and  his  dog  wheel'd  up  to  th'  right, 

And  thunder'd  by  a  cursed  lane, 
And  there  the  villains  wrought  their  spight, 

For  by  them  once  was  a  poor  man  slain  : 
They  swear,  before  they'l  ever  lack, 
They'l  go  to  hell  a  pick-a-pack, 
And  thus  poor  Debtors  they  go  to  rack, 

And  that's  the  cause  that  the  Land  complains.  32 

There's  cursing  Will  and  davame-Jack, 

And  Bobbin'  Turner's  alive  agen  ; 
And  paunchgut-.ZW  (a  hellish  pack), 

With  perjur'd-Z>«c&  and  bawdy  Ben  : 
Which  formerly  on  earth  did  dwell, 
And  now  they  are  return'd  from  Hell, 
And  doth  against  our  Laws  rebell, 

And  that's  the  cause  that  the  Land  complains.  40 

When  I  awaked  from  my  Dream, 

Methoughts  the  World  turn'd  upside  down, 

And  in  great  haste,  I  writ  this  theam, 
For  the  Bayliffs'  Dogs  of  our  town  : 

Who  for  their  prey  each  hour  do  wait, 

Like  death  at  every  poor  man's  gate, 

And  brings  the  Bealm  to  a  dismal  fate, 

And  that's  the  cause  that  the  Land  complains.  48 

When  poor  men  are  out  of  employ, 

And  have  not  a  farthing  in  the  world, 
The  while  there  wives  and  children  cry, 

There's  many  are  in  a  prison  hurl'd. 

The  Poet's  Dream,  of  Bailiffs  and  their  Dogs.  13 

Men  are  enticed  by  the  Bumms,  ll-e-  Bum-Bailifife. 

Who  swear  they  ne'r  will  pay  their  summs ; 
Thus  poor  in  flocks  to  the  Jaylor  comes ; 

And  that's  the  cause  that  the  Land  complains.  56 

The  Tally-man,  curmudgeon  keeps 

A  Baylif  and  his  Dog  to  bite  ; 
If  in  their  books  men  ever  creeps, 

They  quickly  swear  they'l  have  their  right ; 
So  soon  as  e're  they  do  backslide, 
The  torturing  Jale  they  must  abide, 
Then  Toby  and  [his]  dog's  employ'd  ; 

And  that's  the  cause  that  the  Land  complains.  64 

"When  rogues  are  at  the  Old  Bayly  burn'd,       Lbumt in  the  hand, 

And  that  their  pilfering  trades  do  fail ; 
From  Thieves  to  Bayliffs-dogs  have  turn'd, 

To  plague  and  hurry  the  Poor  to  jayl : 
How  like  kid-nappers  all  the  day 
In  every  corner  they  survey, 
And  quaff  whole  bowls  when  they  get  the[ir  pay,] 

And  that's  the  cause  that  the  Land  complains.  72 

Ten  groats  the  fees,  and  a  crown  the  [bed, 

And  three  round  ooo's  for  a  writ  beside  ; 
Thus  laws  are  broken,  and  poor  men  d[read  [mutilated. 

Such  racking  torments  they  must  abide. 
And  while  the  Prisoner  sends  for  bail, 
They  tope  the  brandy,  beer,  and  ale, 
And  makes  him  pay,  or  they  have  him  to  [jayl : 

And  that's  the  cause  that  the  Land  complains.  80 

For  twenty  shillings,  ten,  or  five, 

They'l  put  a  man  to  a  cursed  Charge  ; 
Or  run  him  to  Jayl  they'l  soon  contrive, 

Where  other  bills  are  exprest  at  large  : 
The  Jayl-fees  many  are  bound  to  rue, 
The  garnish,  bed,  and  Turn-key  too, 
Expects  an  unexpected  due  ; 

And  that's  the  cause  that  the  Land  complains.  88 

Your  Moore-field  mobbs,  and  Whetstone-w  .  .  . * 

Has  Bayliffs  and  their  Dogs  for  friends  ; 
When  lustful  youth  pays  Venus'  scores, 

Those  spunging  Pimps  the  house  attends. 

1  Mutilated.  "Whetstone -Park,  an  ill-famed  locality  between  Holborn  and 
Lincoln's- Inn- Fields,  has  been  mentioned  in  our  Amanda  Group  of  Bagford 
Poems.  A  Ballad  in  Harleian  MS.  6913,  fol.  59,  begins,  "In  a  famous  street 
near  Whetstone'' s-Park,  where  there's  commonly  fiddles  as  soon  as  'tis  dark,"  etc. 

14     D'Urfey's  Original  '  Sawney  was  tall,  and  of  noble  race.' 

If  cullies  fight  in  a  drunken  fit, 
Away  goes  Toby's  dog  for  a  Writ, 
Thus  many  falls  in  the  Bayliff's  pit, 

And  that's  the  cause  that  the  Land  complains.  96 

"lis  seldom  a  BaylifT,  or  his  dog, 

Is  ever  known  for  to  go  to  church  ; 
As  soon  as  they  hear  the  Word  of  God, 

They  leave  the  parson  in  the  lurch : 
They  swear  they'l  come  to  church  no  more, 
They  lay  their  sins  to  Adam's  score, 
And  jaunts  to  Moorfields  to  a  whore : 

And  that's  the  cause  that  the  Land  complains.  104 

Thus  I  conclude  and  end  my  Song, 

Desiring  that  you  wou'd  be  content : 
There's  Christian-Peers  that  may  right  our  wrong 
When  Heaven  yields  up  a  Parliament : 
I  hope  true  reason  will  plead  our  cause, 
While  they'r  erecting  wholesome  laws, 
They'l  keep  us  from  the  Crocodil's  paws  : 

And  cease  the  Poor  of  the  Land's  complaints.  112 


Printed  for  P.  Broohsly  at  the  Golden  Ball,  near  the  Bear  Tavern. 

[Black-letter.    "Woodcut  of  Prince  Rupert  and 'Boy,' p.  11.    Date,  before  October, 
1680.     The  Bear- Tavern  was  in  Pye- Corner,  Smithjield.] 

3Lettfc£'s  Song.    iSairjncg'g  Neglect. 

(Sung  in  "  The  Virtuous  Wife,'"  1679.) 

SAWNEY  was  tall  and  of  Noble  race,  and  lov'd  me  better  tban  any  eane  ; 
But  now  he  ligs  by  another  Lass,  and  Sawney  will  ne'er  be  my  Love  agen. 
I  gave  him  fine  Scotch  sark  and  band,  I  put  'em  on  with  mine  own  hand  ; 
I  gave  him  House  and  I  gave  him  Land,  Yet  Saivney  will  ne'er  be  my  Love  agen. 

I  robb'd  the  groves  of  all  their  store,  and  nosegays  made  to  give  Sawney  one  ; 
He  kiss'd  my  breast  and  feign  would  do  mere,  Geud  feth  !  me-thought  he  was  a 

bonny  one : 
He  squeez'd  my  fingers,  grasp'd  my  knee,  and  carv'd  my  name  on  each  green  tree, 
And  sigh'd  and  languish'd  to  lig  by  me,  Yet  now  he  wo1  not  be  my  Love  agen. 

My  Bongrace  and  my  sun-burnt  face  he  prais'd.  and  also  my  Russet  Gown  ; 
But  now  he  doats  on  the  Copper  Lace  of  some  leud  Quean  of  London  Town  : 
He  gangs  and  gives  her  Curds  and  Cream,  whilst  I  poor  soul  sit  sighing  at  heam, 
And  ne'er  'joy  Sawney  unless  in  a  Dream,  for  now  he  ne'er  will  be  my  Love  agen. 

[By  Tom  D'TJrfey.     Seep.  10.] 

A  pleasanter  '  Dream '  was  Lettice's,  no  doubt,  than  '  The  Poet's  Dream  of 
Bailiffs  and  their  Dogs.'  There  are  indications  of  private  grievance  of  the  self- 
styled  'Poet'  against  the  sundry-adjectived  Will,  Jack,  Turner,  Tom,  Dick 
and  Ben,  but  we  suppose  that  '  Toby  and  his  dog '  may  fairly  represent  a  class 
(as  John  Doe  and  Richard  Roe),  not  a  simple  individual  Toby,  like  Tobias 
Bowne,  whose  'Advice  '  and  'Experience  we  reach  in  our  ' Matrimonial  Group.' 


*»*  A   Eoxburghe  Ballad,    "  Jenny's  Answer  to  Sawney,"    sequel  to  Tom 
D'  Urfey's  song,  to  the  same  tune,  is  from  the  same  publisher,  Philip  Brooksby. 

[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  223  ;  Jersey  Coll.,  II.  154.] 

Jennie's  ^nsfoer  to  Sainnrj; 

OTtfjerem  3Loae's  (Erueltrj  is  wquitetr;  or,  2H)e  inconstant  ILober: 

justlg  ©esptseo. 

Being  a  Relation  how  Sawney  being  disabled  and  turn'd  out  of  doors  by  the  Miss 
of  London  town,  is  likewise  scorned  and  rejected  by  his  Country  Lass  and 
forced  to  wander  where  he  may. 

[Sawny]  at  last,  in  a  most  woful  case,  [misp.  "  Jenny.1'' 

Is  forced  to  leave  the  patch' d  and  painted  face  ; 

For  money  there  rules  all,  and  when  'tis  gone 

The  cully  is  no  longer  waited  on  : 

Down  to  his  Jenny  he  does  hye  with  speed, 

But  she  remembers  his  Ungrateful  deed  ; 

Nor  will  forgive,  though  on  his  knees  he  fall, 

So  mortify'd  he  is  despis'd  by  all. 

To  the  Tune  of,  Sawney  will  ne,r  be  my  Love  again. 

WHEN  Sawny  left  me  he  had  store  of  gilt,  but  he  hath  spent  it  in  London  town, 
And  now  is  return'd  to  his  Sun-burn'd  face,  his  own  dear  Joy  in  a  Russet 
Gown : 
He  is  come  for  another  Sark  and  band,  and  coakses  me  for  more  of  my  coin, 
But  I'se  'guid-faith,  shall  hold  my  hand;  For  SA  WNY  shall  nevermore  be  mine. 

Sawny  rid  home  on  a  Running  Nagg,  and  fain  wou'd  he  have  me  gang  to  the  shade  ; 
But  never  was  Scot  in  such  a  case  with  riding  upon  a  London  Jade. 
But  now  he  repents  o'  th'  Painted-face,  and  bans  the  lewd  Queans  of  London  fine, 
He  fain  wou'd  have  let  his  Nag  run  a  race,  But  SA  WNY  shall  never  more  be  mine. 

He  now  would  angle  in  my  fish-pond,  to  quench  those  flames  that  scorch  him  so  ; 
And  wou'd  put  it  in  with  his  own  hand,  but  let  him  gang  where  the  North-winds 

I'se  be  content  with  my  former  Dream,  nor  at  his  absence  will  I  repine  ; 
No  more  will  I'se  taste  of  his  Curds  and  Cream,  For  SA  WNY  never  more  shall 

be  mine. 

But  yet  methought  that  I'se  was  sad,  to  see  poor  Sawny  look  so  forlorn  ; 
To  think  what  glee  I'se  once  from  him  had,  and  that  I'se  shou'd  now  his  kind- 
ness scorn. 
Guid  faith  !  he  look[t]  both  pale  and  wan,  repenting  that  he  had  been  so  unkind  ; 
And  beg'd  of  me  for  a  Sark  and  band  ;  But  SA  WNY  shall  never  more  be  mine. 

He  told  me  he  wou'd  be  now  my  Slave,  and  never  more  see  London  Town, 

But  ganging  with  me  shou'd  think  it  brave,  take  more  delight  in  my  Russet  Gown 

Than  in  that  filthy  Copper-Lace  that  covers  Harlots  void  of  grace, 

Pox'd  and  patch' d  with  an  Impudent  face :  But  SA  WNY  shall  never  more  be  mine. 

Guid  faith  !  I'se  keep  close  my  two-leav'd  Book,  I'se  will  not  trust  him  to  gang 

between ;  [Quean. 

Lest  my  Fish-pond  is  spoil'd  with  his  hook,  because  he  hath  ligg'd  with  a  London 


Jennie's  Answer  to  Sawney's  Inconstancy. 

She  having  gull'd  him  of  all  his  store,  [and]  bid  him  to  gang  and  seek  for  more, 
Now  he's  return'd  both  niaim'd  and  poor :  But  SA  WNY  shall  never  mo  be  mine. 

Tho'  he  shew'd  me  the  gay  green  Tree,  on  which  he  oft  had  carv'd  my  name  ; 
"Whilst  Primroses  I'se  pluck'd  hard  by,  and  made  him  Nosegays  of  the  same  : 
Guid  faith  !  I'se  smile  to  see  him  weep,  because  his  promise  he  did  not  keep, 
But  with  a  Miss  o'  th'  Town  did  sleep  :    Yet  SA  WNY  shall  never  more  be  mine. 

I'se  bid  him  gang,  from  whence  he  came,  and  to  the  London  Mort  declare, 

He  had  wrong' d  me,  and  cou'd  not  for  shame  to  me  for  House  or  Land  repair  : 

He  told  me  that  she  was  muckle  Fag,  for  when  he  had  emptied  his  bag, 

She  sent  him  home  with  a  running  nagg  :  Yet  SA  WNY  shall  never  more  be  mine. 

And  that  he  did  intreat  her  still,  but  she  was  cruel  and  would  not  bear, 
Swearing  she  would  poor  Saivny  kill,  if  that  he  stayed  any  longer  there ; 
Thus  any  e'ne  may  plainly  see,  what  he  got  by  leaving  of  me, 
And  what  the  Queans  of  London  be  :   Yet  SA  WNY  shall  never  more  be  mine. 

Thus  may  the  Lasses  see  how  I  paid  him  for  his  base  inconstancy, 

"Who  for  to  ride  on  a  London  jade,  cockt  up  his  Bonnet  and  gang'd  from  me. 

For  which  I  shall  requite  him  now,  and  no  more  of  his  kindness  allow, 

But  let  him  gang  home  to  his  father's  plow,  for  SA  WNY  shall  never  more  be  mine. 

Printed  for  P.  Brooksby,  at  the  Golden-Ball,  near  the  Hospital-Gate  in 


[In  Black-letter,  with  three  woodcuts.  Date,  probably,  1679-80.  The  Scotch 
Lass  thought  disparagingly  of  the  "  London  Queans  and  foul  Traders." 
Similarly  an  English  "  Innocent  Country  Maid"  tells  her  scorn  for  wickedness 
and  her  delight  in  rural  happiness  on  p.  27.  The  cuts  are  the  Scot  of  p.  26 
and  the  '  painted  face '  below  ;  also  two  figures,  Bay  ford  Ballads,  p.  174.] 


[Roxburghe  Coll.,  III.  592  ;  Bagford,  I.  54  ;  Euing,  351,  etc.  ;   see  Note.'] 

a  Ctue  (E&aracter  of  suntirp  Crane?  anD  Calling 

©r,  a  Nefo  Bt'ttg  of  innocent  JHfrtfj. 

This  Song  is  new,  perfect  and  True,  there's  none  can  this  deny ; 
For  I  am  known,  Friend,  to  be  One  that  scorns  to  tell  a  Lie. 


To  the  Tune  of,  Old  Sir  Simon  the  King. 

Licensed  according  to  Order. 


NOw  Gentlemen,  sit  you  all  merry,  I'll  sing  you  a  song  of  a  Want ; 
I'll  make  you  as  merry  as  may  be,  tho'  Money  begins  to  grow  scant. 
A  "Woman  without  e'er  a  Tongue,  she  never  can  scold  very  loud  ; 
'Tis  just  such  another  great  want  when  a  Fidler  wants  his  Crowd.        [Note,  p.  18 
[Good  people,  I  tell  unto  you,  these  lines  they  are  absolute  new  ; 
For  I  hate  and  despise  the  telling  of  Lies  :  this  Ditty  is  merry  and  true."] 

A  Ship  that's  without  e'er  a  Sail  may  be  driven  the  Lord  knows  whither ; 
'Tis  just  such  another  sad  want,  when  a  Shooe-maker  wants  his  Leather. 
.  A  man  that  has  got  but  one  legg  will  make  but  a  pitiful  Runner  ; 
And  he  that  has  no  Eyes  in  his  Head  will  make  but  a  sorrowful  Gunner. 
Good  people,  I  tell  unto  you,  etc. 

A  Doctor  without  any  Stomack  will  make  but  a  pittyful  Dinner, 
And  he  that  has  got  no  victuals  to  eat  will  quickly  look  thinner  and  thinner. 
A  Bell  without  ever  a  clapper  will  make  but  a  sorrowful  sound ; 
And  he  that  has  no  Land  of  his  own  must  work  on  another  man's  Ground. 
Good  people,  etc. 

A  Black-smith  without  any  bellows,  he  need  not  to  rise  very  soon  ; 
And  he  that's  no  Cloaths  to  put  on  may  lie  in  bed  till  it's  noon. 
An  Innkeeper  without  any  custom  will  never  get  store  of  pelf ; 
And  if  he  has  ne'r  a  Sign  to  hang  up,  may  e'en  go  hang  up  himself. 
Good  people,  etc. 

A  Miller  without  any  stones,  he  is  but  a  sorrowful  Soul, 
And  if  he  had  no  Corn  to  grind,  he  need  not  stand  talcing  of  Toll. 
The  Taylor  we  know  he  is  loth  to  take  any  Cabbige  at  all, 
If  he  has  no  silk,  stuff  or  cloath,  to  do  that  good  office  withal. 
Good  people,  etc. 

vol.  tii.  c 


18  True  Character  of  sundry  Trades  and  Callings. 

A  Woman  without  e'er  a  fault  she  like  a  bright  Star  will  appear, 

[And]  a  Brewer  without  any  mault  will  make  but  pitiful  Beer,         ['  But,'  Boxb. 

A  Man  that  has  got  but  one  Shirt,  when  e'er  it  is  wash'd  for  his  hide, 

I  hope  it  can  be  no  great  hurt  to  lye  in  his  Bed  till  'tis  dry*d. 

Good  people,  [I  tell  unto  you  these  lines  they  are  absolute  New  ;]  etc.  36 

A  Mountebank  without  his  fools,  and  a  Skip-kennel  turn'd  out  of  place, 
A  Tinker  without  any  tools,  they  are  all  in  a  sorrowful  case. 
You  know  that  a  dish  of  good  Meat  it  is  the  true  stay  of  Man's  life  ; 
But  he  that  has  nothing  to  eat  he  needs  not  to  draw  out  his  knife. 
Good  people,  etc. 

A  Pedlar  without  e'er  a  Stock  [  =  Pack],  it  makes  him  look  pittiful  blew  ; 

A  Shepherd  without  e'er  a  flock,  has  little  or  nothing  to  do  ; 

A  Farmer  without  any  corn,  he  neither  can  give,  sell,  or  lend ; 

A  Huntsman  without  e'er  a  horn,  his  Wife  she  must  stand  his  best  friend. 

Good  people,  etc.  48 

A  Ploughman  that  has  ne'er  a  plough,  I  think  may  live  at  his  ease  ; 
A  Dairy  without  e'er  a  cow  will  make  bad  butter  and  cheese  ; 
A  man  that  is  pittiful  poor  has  little  or  nothing  to  lose, 
And  he  that  has  never  a  foot,  it  saves  him  the  buying  of  shooes. 
Good  people,  etc. 

A  Warren  without  e'er  a  Coney  is  barren,  and  so  much  the  worse  ; 

And  he  that  is  quite  without  money  can  have  no  great  need  of  a  purse. 

I  hope  there  are  none  in  this  place  that  now  are  displeas'd  with  my  song. 

Come  buy  up  my  Ballads  apace,  and  I'll  pack  up  my  awls  and  be  gone. 
Good  people,  I  tell  unto  you,  these  lines  are  absolute  new, 
For  I  hate  and  despise  the  telling  of  Lies,  this  Bitty  is  merry  and  true. 

[The  Koxburghe  copy  is  in  white-letter,  modern,  with  a  small  woodcut  of  a  town 
church,  but  without  any  publisher's  name,  division  of  stanzas,  or  burden  of 
"  Good  people,"  etcetera.  A  better  exemplar  is  in  the  Bagford  Collection, 
with  three  small  cuts  (I.  54  ;  also  Euing,  No.  351),  printed  for  Philip  Brooksby 
at  the  Golden-Ball,  Pye- Corner.  Marked  "To  the  Tune  of,  Old  Simon  the 
King,  and  with  the  burden-motto  (following  the  title),  printed  as  four  lines, 

This  song  is  neiv,  and  perfect  true,  There's  none  can  this  deny  ; 
For  I  am  known,  friend,  to  be  One  that  scorns  to  tell  a  Lye. 
We  follow  this  Bagford  instead  of  the  Roxburghe,  except  in  a  few  cases,  must 
for  may  ;  pelf  for  wealth  ;  and  are  for  is,  in  final  stanza.     Another  copy  is  at 
the  British  Museum,  C.  22,  c.  2,  166  verso.     It  is  reprinted  in  Pills  to  Purge 
Melancholy,  1719,  vol.  iv.  p.  49,  following  'The  Reformed  Drinker,'  and  to 
the  same  Tune.     See,  our  vol.  vi.  pp.  276,  317.     Date,  circd  1672-1684.] 
***  A   Crowde,  mentioned  in  the  first  stanza,   was  a  small  fiddle  used  by 
wandering  musicians,  larger  than  a  Dancing-master's  Kit.     Hence  the  name 
Croicdero  borne  by  the  Fiddler  (one  Jackson,  the  original),  in  Butler's  immortal 
burlesque  of  Hudibras,  1662.   {Crowd  is  not  here  =  an  assemblage.  See  also  p.  69.) 

"  I'  th'  head  of  all  this  warlike  rabble 
Crowdero  march' d  expert  and  able. 
Instead  of  trumpet  and  of  drum, 
That  makes  the  warrior's  stomach  come  .  . 
A  squeaking  engine  he  applied 
Unto  his  neck,  on  north-east  side, 
Just  where  the  hangman  does  dispose, 
To  special  friends,  the  knot  of  noose." 

—Hudibras,  Part  1,  Canto  2,  1.  105. 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  383  ;  Euing,  No.  236  ;  Jersey,  I.  322.] 

Cfje  ISafceD  Ctutb ; 

@r,  a  RTe&j  .Song  foit^out  a  3Lge. 

Tune  of,  Old  Simon  the  King  ;  or,  The  Character  of  sundry  Trades  and  Callings. 

TPHo'  Trading  we  find  in  the  City,  and  many  more  places,  is  bad. 

_L     Yet  here  I  will  sing  a  fine  ditty,  we'd  as  good  be  merry  as  sad  : 

Of  several  Trades  I  will  treat,  and  will  with  the  Butcher  begin, 

With  what  kind  of  Trade  shall  he  meet,  if  he  has  neither  carcass  nor  skin  ? 

All  you  that  are  noiv  in  this  throng,  I  reckon  to  do  you  no  wrong, 

Believe  me,  I  pray,  by  yea  and  by  nay,  there  is  not  a  lye  in  this  Song. 
A  Weaver  without  loom  or  shuttle,  like  one  out  of  use,  may  lye  by, 
A  Tinker  without  any  mettal  no  woman  will  ever  imploy  : 

A  Cobler  without  St.  Hugh's  bones,  he  cannot  mend  old,  or  make  new,   [c/-  P-  35- 
A  Favier  without  any  stones,  oh,  what  is  he  able  to  do  ? 

All  you  that  are  now  in  this  Throng,  etc.  12 

A  Man  that  is  quite  moneyless,  thro'  crowds  he  in  safety  may  pass, 
A  Cook  that  hath  no  meat  to  dress,  he  need  not  stand  making  of  sawce. 
A  Taylor  without  e're  a  yard,  his  bndkin,  goose,  thimble  and  sheers, 
You'll  find  that  he  is  as  muchmarr'd  as  if  he  had  lost  both  his  ears:  All  you,  etc. 
A  Fisherman  without  a  net,  you  know  he  can  catch  but  a  few, 
But  yet  his  good  wife  she  will  fret  when  ever  she  wants  of  her  due  : 
The  jolly  brisk  Baker  is  one,  to  whom  the  young  Lasses  do  troule, 
So  that  he  is  clearly  undone  if  he  has  not  a  Rusling-pole  :  [?«■  ruffling 

All  you  that  are  now,  etc.  24 

The  Miller's  for  taking  to  task  the  mistress  or  Gillian  the  maid, 
The  Cooper  without  hoops  or  cask,  he  cannot  well  follow  his  trade : 
The  Poet  without  e're  a  Muse  can  never  make  Sonnets  compleat ; 
A  Footman  without  pumps  or  shoes  will  certainly  blister  his  feet :  All  you,  etc. 
A  Scrivener  without  ink  or  pen,  his  bonds  and  his  letters  can't  write, 
A  Captain  that  lost  all  his  men,  will  have  but  small  stomach  to  fight. 
The  man  that  shall  marry  for  gold,  and  brings  home  a  Shrew  to  his  bed, 
Both  morning,  noon,  night  she  will  scold,  and  still  have  a  noise  in  her  head. 

All  you  that  are  now,  etc.  36 

The  Chimney-sweeper  pray  don't  scoff,  for  if  he  hath  shackles  and  poles, 
He'll  call  to  the  maids  each  morn,  to  scoure  and  cleanse  their  black  holes  : 
That  man  that  is  naked  indeed,  he  is  not  like  Taylors,  and  those, 
For  tho'  he  has  ne're  so  much  need,  he  is  not  for  pawning  his  cloaths.   All  you,etc. 
A  Gallant  that  has  a  good  coat,  'twill  help  him  out  at  a  dead  lift, 
A  Sculler  that  has  ne'r  a  boat,  he  fears  not  running  a  drift ; 
Some  Sharpers  a  calling  does  use,  'tis  robbing  Rich  Men  of  their  store, 
But  he  that  has  nothing  to  loose,  he  needs  not  a  watch  at  his  door. 

All  you  that  are  now,  etc.  48 

I  ne'r  was  brought  up  for  to  lye,  and  therefore  I  tell  you  the  truth, 
My  ballads  I'd  have  you  to  buy,  they're  fit  for  diversion  of  youth  ; 
My  pocket  with  Cole  to  encrease,  let  every  young-man  and  maid,    [Co?<?=nioney. 
Now  lay  out  a  penny  a  piece,  and  then  I  shall  have  a  good  trade. 

All  you  that  are  now  in  this  throng,  I'll  do  you  no  manner  of  wrong, 

Believe  me,  I  pray,  by  yea  and  by  nay,  there  is  not  a  lye  in  this  Song. 

-flfi'« fa  [Colophon  lost. 

[Euing's  and  Jersey's  were  Printed  for  Josiah  Blare,  at  the  Looking-Glass,  on 
London -Bridge.    Two  cuts :  Spade-and-pick  men  :  given  later.    Date,  circa  1684.] 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  227  ;  Pepys,  IV.  153  ;  Huth,  II.  59  ;  Jersey,  II.  7.] 

€I)e  3Jtrtnnctble  |0rtt>e  of  Wiomtn; 

'Ejje  iLonoon  'Craocgman'g  ILamcmatton  for  t&e  proot= 
galitp  of  gig  Wift,  togtcij  ootg  oatlp  pillage  §10  |8ur0e* 

To  the  Tune  op,  The  Spinning-Wheel.     (See  note  on  p.  21.) 
Licensed  according  to  Order. 

I  Have  a  Wife,  the  more's  my  care,  "who  like  a  gaudy  peacock  goes, 
In  top-knots,  patches,  powder'd  hair,  besides  she  is  the  worst  of 
shrows  ; 
Thisfillsmy  heart  with  grief  and  care  to  think  I  must  this  burthenbear. 

Note. — In  this  best  of  all  possible  worlds  it  is  difficult  or  impossible  to  get  on 
comfortably  without  the  valuable  institution  of  whipping.  ]STemesis  is  needed. 
Even  if  it  does  not  convert  hardened  offenders,  retributive  justice  soon  makes 
them  smart,  comforts  the  righteous  souls  of  outsiders,  and  restores  the  balance  that 
had  been  disturbed.  When  the  London  Tradesman  had  grown  rich  by  iniquities 
(such  as  are  indicated  mildly  in  'The  Clothier's  Delight,'  on  our  p.  7),  it  was 
soothing  to  the  mind  of  the  ballad-purchaser  to  remember  that  the  wrong-doer 
possessed  a  wife,  who  had  power  and  will  to  make  her  husband's  life  miserable, 
scattering  his  wealth  among  her  loose  companions,  and  turning  him  to  ridicule. 

The  Invincible  Pride  of  Women.  21 

It  is  her  forecast  to  contrive  to  rise  about  the  hour  of  Noon, 

And  if  she's  trimm'd  and  rigg'd  by  five,  why  this  I  count  is  very  soon  ; 

Then  goes  she  to  a  Ball  or  Play,  to  pass  the  pleasant  night  away. 

And  when  she  home  returns  again,  conducted  by  a  bully  spark, 

If  that  I  in  the  least  complain,  she  does  my  words  and  actions  mark, 

And  does  likewise  my  gullet  tear,  then  roars  like  thunder  in  the  air. 

I  never  had  a  groat  with  her,  most  solemnly  I  here  declare ; 

Yet  she's  as  proud  as  Lucifer,  and  cannot  study  what  to  wear : 

In  sumptuous  robes  she  still  appears,  while  I  am  forc'd  to  hide  my  ears. 

The  lofty  Top-knots  on  her  crown,  with  which  she  sails  abroad  withal, 
Makes  me  with  care,  alas  !  look  down,  as  having  now  no  hope  at  all, 
That  ever  I  shall  happy  be  in  such  a  flaunting  Wife  as  she.  30 

In  debt  with  ev'ry  shop  she  runs,  for  to  appear  in  gaudy  pride, 
And  when  the  milliner  she  duns,  I  then  am  forc'd  my  head  to  hide  : 
Dear  friends,  this  proud  imperious  wife  she  makes  me  weary  of  my  life. 

Sometimes  with  words  both  kind  and  mild  I  let  her  know  my 

wretched  state,  [great 

For  which  I  streightways  am  revil'd  :  says  she,  "  I  will  appear  more 

Than  any  merchant's  London  Dame,  tho'  thou  art  ruin'd  for  the  same." 

'Tis  true  she  is  both  fair  and  young  and  speaks  Italian,  Greek  and  Dutch, 
Besides  she  hath  the  scolding  tongue,  which  is,  in  faith,  a  Tongue 

too  much  ; 
I  dare  not  speak  nor  look  awry,  for  fear  of  her  severity.  48 

My  worldly  glory,  joy  and  bliss,  is  turn'd  to  sorrow,  grief  and  care  ; 
He  that  has  such  a  Wife  as  this  needs  no  more  torment  I  declare ; 
To  buy  those  trinkets  which  they  lack  both  stock  and  credit  goe  to  rack. 

There's  many  more  as  well  as  I,  in  famous  London-city  fair, 
Whose  wives  with  prodigality  do  fill  their  husbands'  hearts  with  care. 
I  pity  those  with  all  my  heart,  since  I  with  them  do  bear  a  part. 

[In  Black-letter,  with  four  woodcuts.  1st,  the  cavalier,  vol.  vi.  p.  237,  left ; 
2nd,  the  prim  upright  woman  of  vol.  vi.  224,  right ;  3rd,  a  little  man,  as 
in  vol.  vi.  82  left ;  and  a  crowned  lady  in  an  oval  wreath,  for  which  see  our 
p.  26.  We  substitute  another  cut  from  a  different  ballad  of  a  shrew. 
Publisher's  name  lost  from  Roxburghe  copy.  Pepys's  printed  for  Philip 
Brooksby,  Jonah  Beacon,  J.  Blare,  and  /.  Back.    Date  of  issue,  circa  1686-88.] 

***  The  Tune  named  for  this  ballad,  The  Spinning-  Wheel  (mentioned  also  in 
vol.  iv.  p.  77),  gains  its  name  from  the  '  excellent  new  Tune'  belonging  to  "  The 
Bonny  Scot ;  or,  the  Yielding  Lass,"  Licensed  by  R.  Pocock,  1685-88,  beginning, 
"  As  I  sate  at  my  Spinning  Wheel,  a  bonny  lad  there  passed  by."  Reprinted  in 
our  Bagford  Ballads,  p.  19,  1876.  In  the  same  series  (pp.  121-4,  930-7),  we 
had  to  do  with  the  "Top-Knots"  of  ribbon  (line  25)  in  female  head-gear. 
The  subject  is  not  exhausted,  and  deserves  a  few  words  at  a  convenient  time. 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  513  ;  Douce,  II.  250  ;  Jersey,  I.  208.] 

Ct)e  22*est  Country  KUeatier: 


$}i&  £>orrotoful  ILamnitatton  foe  t£e  Jjarogfnp  togui)  f)t 
miOcrgorg  op  a  prouo  Imperious  Mift:  ^ogetger, 
tottjj  f\i$  Evolution  to  reclaim  ^er  op  tfie  toeU=ap= 
prooeo  £Dxl  of  ^oHp. 

To  the  Tune  of,  If  Love's  a  sweet  Passion,  &c.     [See  toI.  vi.  pp.  31-34.] 

Licensed  according  to  Order. 

G"\  Ood  people,  I  marry'd  a  turbulent  Wife, 
JT     "Who  with  railing  has  made  me  quite  weary  of  life  ; 
Tho'  I  do  my  endeavour  to  give  her  content, 
Yet  my  labour,  alas  !  to  no  purpose  is  spent : 
On  her  errands,  Peel-garlick  her  husband  she  sends  ;    [c/.  Nares. 
You  may  see  what  it  is  to  be  marry'd,  dear  Friends. 

When  I  was  a  Batch elor  gallant  and  Gay, 
Then  at  stool-ball,  or  cricket,  I  freely  might  play, 
Nay,  and  sometimes  with  Margery  ride  to  a  fair ; 
But,  alas  !  now  my  head  is  incumbred  with  care  : 
I  must  tarry  at  home  for  to  feed  my  wife's  Hens : 

You  may  see  what  it  is  to  he  marry'd,  dear  Friends.  12 

If  I  an  acquaintance  do  happen  to  meet, 
Any  time  in  the  day,  as  I  pass  through  the  street, 
And  that  we  for  one  flaggon  together  should  go, 
Strait  she  comes  like  a  loud  and  invincible  Shrow, 
At  my  noddle  the  pipe  and  the  flaggon  she  sends : 
You  may  see  what  [it  is  to  be  marryd,  dear  Friends]. 

All  Winter  betimes  I  am  forced  to  rise 

For  to  make  her  a  fire  and  caudle  likewise, 

Which  I  bring  her  each  morning  with  care  to  her  bed, 

Which  perhaps  in  her  passion  she'll  fling  at  my  head, 

This  I  often  have  had  to  make  me  amends, 

You  may  see  what  [it  is  to  be  marry'd,  dear  Friends'].  '24 

She  set  me  one  morning  to  hang  on  the  pot, 
And  I  needs  must  acknowledge  I  clearly  forgot 
For  to  put  in  the  water,  but  saunter'd  about 
Till  the  porridge-pot  bottom  was  clearly  burnt  out : 
At  my  noddle  the  Ladle  she  presently  sends,  [see  p.  20. 

You  may  see  xohat  it  is  to  be  marry'd,  dear  Friends. 

The  West- Country  Wearer's  Lamentation.  23 

One  morning  she  left  me  at  home  to  he  Nurse, 

While  she  walk'd  with  her  Gallant,  whom  often  I'd  curse. 

Now  as  I  was  sate  rocking,  and  winding  of  silk, 

Oh  the  cat  came  and  eat  up  the  child's  sugar'd  milk  : 

But  when  this  sad  disaster  was  known  to  my  wife, 

Honest  people,  I  thought  'twould  have  cost  me  my  life.     36 

Now  when  she  had  thrash'd  me,  up  stairs  she  did  go 
With  her  Gallant,  and  charg'd  me  to  tarry  below ; 
But  I  cunningly  follow'd,  up  stairs  I  did  creep, 
Ay,  and  through  the  key-hole  in  troth  I  did  peep : 
But  her  Gallant  he  heard  me,  and  presently  swore 

He  wou'd  kick  me  down  stairs,  if  he  came  to  the  door. 

With  courage  I  told  him,  I  fear'd  not  his  blows, 
I  wou'd  peep  through  the  keyhole  in  spite  of  his  nose  ; 
Then  the  Spark  in  a  passion  his  rapier  he  drew, 
Straight  away  from  the  door  of  the  chamber  I  flew ; 
For  I  knowing  young  Gallants  are  desperate  men  : 

And  thought  I,  shou'd  he  kill  me,  faith  where  am  I  then  ?  48 

I  took  her  to  task  when  the  Gallant  was  gone, 
And  I  said,  "  Love,  consider  but  what  you  have  done." 
It  was  all  that  I  said,  when  she  flew  with  disdain, 
Ay,  and  call'd  me  poor  wittal,  and  cuckold  in  grain  ; 
And  a  three-legged  stool  at  my  noddle  she  sends : 
You  may  see  what  it  is  to  he  marry' d,  my  Friends. 

Before  any  longer  this  life  I  will  lead, 

I  am  fully  resolv'd  to  chastise  her  with  speed, 

With  the  sweet  Oil  of  Holly  I'll  chafe  her  proud  hide, 

Which  will  supple  and  make  her  a  diligent  Bride  : 

And  when  thus  she's  reclaim'd,  to  the  world  I  will  tell 
How  in  love,  peace  and  comfort  together  we  dwell.        60 

Printed  for  C.  Bates  at  the  Bible  and  [Sun,  near  St.  Sepulchre's 

Church,  in]  Pye-  Corner. 

[In  Black-letter,  with  two  woodcuts,  single  figures,  of  vol.  vi.p.  243.  Date,  e.  1685.] 

Note. — Here  comes  another  husband,  with  an  equally  troublesome  wife.  If  we 
are  to  believe  his  vaunts  (which  we  certainly  do  not)  he  is  ready  to  bring  her  into 
subjection  with  something  more  curative  than  St.  Jacob's  oil,  wonderful  though 
it  be.  His  panacea  is  the  "  well-approved  Oil  of  Holly,"  which  needs  no  three 
half-penny  licence  before  use.  "  And  here's  the  liquor,  flask'd  and  fine,  and  priced 
and  saleable  at  last."  [So  sang,  in  his  better  inspired  days,  before  becoming 
intoxicated  with  Society  sycophancy,  the  poet  who  links  himself  in  fellowship 
with  a  paltry  Tanner,  by  malignant  craving  for  spitting  and  kicking  on  the  corpse 
or  the  translated  spirit  of  the  genial,  accomplished,  and  well-beloved  Edward 
Fitzgerald,  translator  of  Omar  Khayyam's  Rubn'iyat ;  and  this  solely  because 
'  good  Fitz  '  had  deprecated  continuations  of  Aurora  Leigh.  (See  Professor  Rob. 
Yelverton  Tyrrell's  honest  censure  in  The  Fortnightly  Review,  August,  1889.)] 


Cf)0  Jnnocent  apil&^aitrs  Delig&t 

"  Stale  ballad  news,  cashiered  the  city,  must  now  ride  post  for  the  country, 
where  it  is  no  less  admired  than  a  Giant  in  a  pageant ;  till  at  last  it  grows 
so  common  there  too,  as  every  poor  Milk-maid  can  chant  or  chirp  it  under 
her  cow,  which  she  useth,  as  a  harmless  charm,  to  make  her  let  down  her 
milk." — Character  of  a  Ballad-monger  ;  in  Whimzies  ;  or,  A  new  Cast  of 
Characters,  1631.     [By    Ciitus  Alexandrinus,  alias   Kichard   Brathwaite.] 


N  the  second  volume  of  these  Roxburghe  Ballads,  1872  (one  of 
the  three  early  vols.,  edited  by  the  late  William  Chappell),  on  pp. 
116-120,  preceded  by  an  introductory  note  on  pp.  114,  115,  was 
reprinted  from  the  unique  exemplar  Martin  Parker's  original,  ballad 
of  "  The  Milke-maid's  Life  ;  or,  a  pretty  new  Ditty,  composed  and 
pen'd,  The  praise  of  the  milking  paile  to  defend."  It  runs  to  one 
hundred  and  seventeen  half-lines,  nine  stanzas,  each  of  thirteen 
half-lines.  The  tune  is  named  The  Milke-maid's  Dumps,  and  it 
begins,  "  You  rural  Goddesses  that  woods  and  fields  possess." 
Exactly  one  quarter  of  a  century  earlier  it  had  been  reprinted  by 
John  Payne  Collier,  F.S.A.,  on  pp.  243-248  of  his  Book  of  Roxburghe 
Ballads,  1847.  Mr.  Chappell  also  gave  the  tune  and  words  in  his 
Popular  Music  of  the  Olden  Time,  1855,  with  motto,  pp.  295-298. 

Less  rare  (there  being  three  copies  known)  is  the  revival  of  our 
ballad,  which  was  licensed  in  1685-88  by  Eichard  Pocock,  and 
entitled  "  The  Innocent  Country  Maid's  Delight ;  or,  A  Description 
of  the  Lasses  of  London."  "We  give  this  Milkmaid-Song  on  p.  27,  as 
it  no  less  is  a  Roxburghe  Ballad.  It  commences  with  an  adaptation 
of  Martin  Parker's  sixth  stanza,  "Those  lasses,  nice  and  strange, 
that  keep  shops  in  the  Exchange; "  the  same  stanza  that  is  partly 
quoted  in  the  5th  edition  of  The  Complete  Angler,  chapter  iv.  1676 
(but  not  in  Izaak  Walton's  first  edition,  1653,  where  it  would  have 
been  cap.  ii.),  preceded  by  five  lines  of  another  ballad  by  Martin 
Parker  ('  Keep  a  good  Tongue  in  your  Head  '  :  see  Roxb.  Ballads, 
iii.  237),  thus,  except  that  we  run  on  the  half  lines  of  Comp.  Ang. :  — 

"  I  married  a  wife  of  late,  The  more's  my  unhappy  fate  ; 
I  married  her  for  love,  As  my  fancy  did  me  move, 

And  not  for  a  worldly  estate."  [Cf  Roxb.  Coll.,  I.  512. 

4  4  But  Oh  !  the  green-sickness  Soon  changed  her  likeness  ; 
And  all  her  beauty  did  fail. 
But  'tis  not  so,  With  those  that  go, 
Through  frost  and  snow,  As  all  men  know, 

And  carry  the  Milking-Fail."  [Cf.  Eoxb.  Coll.,  I.  245. 

(Whether,  as  we  imagine  to  have  been  probable,  Izaak  Walton 
had  deliberately  changed  the  line  "  all  this  is  for  want  of  good 
sale,"  into  "  And  all  her  beauty  did  fail,"  in  order  to  fit  it  as  44  one 
short  song,"  or  whether  the  Koxburghe  text  is  corrupt,  is  unknown.) 

The  Innocent  Milk-Maid's  Delight.  25 

Honest  Tom  D'Urfey  could  not  keep  his  hands  off  this  Milkmaid, 
or  any  other  girl  that  came  in  his  way :  especially  the  Via  Lactea. 
In  the  second  part  of  his  Comical  History  of  Don  Quixote,  Act  ii. 
scene  2  (the  play  which  excited  the  ire  of  atrabilious  Jeremy 
Collier,  who  speedily  received  condign  punishment  in  D'Urfey' s 
Campaigners,  Preface,  and  song  of  "A  New  Reformation,"  1697), 
he  introduces  a  Dance  of  Milkmaids,  preceding  which  he  makes  one 
of  them  sing  his  (adaptation  of  Martin  Parker's)  ditty,  five  stanzas, 
"  Ye  Nymphs  and  Sylvan  Gods,  that  love  green  fields  and  woods." 
Although  a  twice-diluted  beverage  it  still  deserves  to  be  quaffed. 
(As  a  broadside  it  is  in  Pepy's  Coll.,  III.  63  ;  and  Y.  221.) 

&oncf  m  praise  of  the  Bonng  iHtlfejBflafo. 


YE  Nymphs  and  Sylvan  Gods,  that  love  green  fields  and  woods, 
When  Spring  newly  born  her  self  doth  adorn 
With  flowers  and  blooming  buds, 
Come,  sing  in  the  praise,  whilst  Flocks  do  graze 

In  yonder  pleasant  Vale, 
Of  those  that  choose  their  sleep  to  loose, 
And  in  cold  dews,  with  clouted  shooes, 
Do  carry  the  Milking -Fail. 


The  Goddess  of  the  Morn  with  blushes  they  adorn, 
And  take  the  fresh  air,  whilst  Linnets  do  prepare 

A  Consort  [  =  Concert]  on  each  green  Thorn  : 
The  Ousle  and  Thrush  on  every  Bush,  \Pills  prints,  "  Blackbird  and." 

And  the  charming  Nightingale, 
In  merry  vein  their  throats  do  strain, 
To  entertain  the  jolly  train 

That  carry  the  Milking -Pail. 


When  cold  bleak  Winds  do  roar,  and  flowers  can  spring  no  more, 
The  fields  that  were  seen,  so  pleasant  and  green, 

By  Winter  all  candy'd  o'er  ; 
Oh  !  how  the  Town  Lass  looks  with  her  white  face, 

And  her  lips  of  deadly  pale  ! 
But  it  is  not  so,  with  those  that  go 
Thro'  frost  and  snow,  with  cheeks  that  glow, 

And  carry  the  Milking -Pail.  \Pills,  "  To  carry.'" 


The  Miss  of  Courtly  mould,  adorn'd  with  Pearl  and  Gold, 
With  washes  and  paint  her  skin  does  so  taint 

She's  wither'd  before  she's  Old  ; 
Whilst  she  of  Commode  puts  on  a  Cart-load,  [Pills,  "  she  in." 

And  with  Cushions  plumps  her  tail, 
What  joys  are  found  in  Busset  Gown, 
Young,  plump  and  round,  and  sweet  and  sound, 

That  carry  the  Milking -Pail. 


The  Innocent  Milk-Maid's  Delight. 

The  Girls  of  Venus' s  Game,  that  venture  Health  and  Fame, 
In  practising  feats,  with  colds  and  with  heats, 

Make  Lovers  grow  blind  and  lame  : 
If  men  were  so  wise  to  value  the  prize 

Of  the  Wares  most  fit  for  sale, 
"What  store  of  Beam  would  dawb  their  clothes, 
To  save  a  Nose,  by  following  those 

That  carry  the  MUking-Pail.  [By  Thomas  D'TJrfey,  1694.] 

[With  music,  in  Pills  to  Purge  Melancholy,  i.  239,  this  sixth  stanza  is  added : 

The  Country  Lad  is  free  from  fears  and  jealousie, 
When  upon  the  Green  he  is  often  seen 

With  his  Lass  upon  his  knee  : 
With  kisses  most  sweet,  he  does  her  greet, 

And  swears  she'll  never  grow  stale  ; 
Whilst  the  London  Lass  in  e'ery  place, 
With  her  brazen  face,  despises  the  grace 

Of  those  with  the  Milking- Pail, .] 

***  In  the  Douce  Collection  (II.  579)  is  "  The  Plow-Man's  Answer  to  the 
Milk-maid's  Delight;"  beginning,  "I  am  a  Plow-man  brisk  and  young,  and 
well  I  like  the  Milk-Maid's  Song,"  which  may  be  regarded  as  an  answer  to  our 
Eoxburghe  ballad,  but  is  marked  to  be  sung  to  the  tune  of  "  1  am  a  Weaver  to  my 
Trade ' '  (properly  "I  am  a  Weaver  by  my  Trade,  and  fell  in  love  with  a 
Chambermaid"  :  this  is  "  Will  the  merry  Weaver  and  Charity  the  Chamber- 
maid ;  or,  A  brisk  Encounter  between  a  young  Man  and  his  Love,"  printed  for 
Philip  Brooksby,  and  to  the  tune  of  As  I  am  bound,  which  is  perhaps,  "  Now  I 
am  bound  to  the  Seas."  See  later  page.  We  have  given  on  p.  22  a  "West- 
Country  Weaver"  (Roxb.  Coll.,  II.  513),  beginning,  "  Good  people,  I  married  a 
Turbulent  Wife."  It  is  anti-matrimonial.  There  were  people  who  answered 
"  Yes!"  to  the  question,  "Is  Marriage  a  Failure?"  in  Charles  the  Second's 
days.      So  was  it  in  Job's,  and,  entre  nous,  in  Adam's. 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  230  ;   Douce,  I.  98  ;  Jersey,  I.  150.] 

3Jnnocent  CountrHPattf  s  2Deltst)t 


£  SDegcription  of  tge  iLtocg  of  tge  lasjjseg  of  HottUom 

At  London  they  the  wanton  play,  as  it  is  often  seen, 
Whilst  we  do  go,  all  of  a  row,  unto  the  meadows  green. 

Set  to  an  excellent  Country  Dance.     This  may  be  printed.     R.P. 

SOme  Lasses  are  nice  and  strange, 
That  keep  shop  in  the  Exchange, 
Sit  pricking  of  clouts, 
And  giving  of  flouts, 
And  seldom  abroad  do  range  : 
Then  comes  the  green  sickness, 
And  changes  their  likeness, 
And  all  for  want  of  sale ; 
But  His  not  so,  with  we  that  go, 
Through  frost  and  snow,  tvhen  ivinds  do  blow, 

To  carry  the  milking-payl.  1 1 

Each  Lass  she  will  paint  her  face, 
To  seem  with  a  comely  grace, 
And  powder  their  hair, 
To  make  them  look  fair, 
That  Gallants  may  them  embrace  : 
But  every  morning, 
Before  their  adorning, 
They're  far  unfit  for  sale  ; 
But  His  not  so,  with  we  that  go, 
Through  frost  and  snow,  when  ivinds  do  blow, 

To  carry  the  milking-payl.  22 

The  more  to  appear  in  pride, 
They  often  in  coaches  ride, 

Drest  up  in  their  knots, 
Their  jewels  and  spots, 
And  twenty  knick-knacks  beside  : 
Their  Gallants  embrace  'em, 
At  length  they  disgrace  'em, 
And  then  they  weep  and  wail ; 
But  His  not  so,  with  we  that  go, 
Through  frost  and  snow,  ivhen  winds  do  blow, 

To  carry  the  milking-payl.  33 

28  The  Innocent  Country-Maid 's  Delight. 

There's  nothing  they  prize  ahove, 
The  delicate  charms  of  Love, 

They  kiss  and  they  court,  they're  right  for  the  sport, 
No  way  like  the  Turtle-dove  : 
For  they  are  for  any, 
Not  one,  but  a  many, 
At  length  they  spoyl  their  sale ; 
But  'tis  not  so,  etc.  44 

They  feed  upon  dainties  fine, 
Their  liquor  is  curious  Wine, 
If  any  will  lend,  they'l  borrow  and  spend, 
And  this  is  a  perfect  sign 
That  they  are  for  pleasure, 
"Whilst  wasting  their  treasure, 
And  then  they  may  to  Jayl ; 
But  His  not  so,  etc.  55 

They  sit  at  their  windows  all  day, 
Drest  up  like  your  Ladies  gay, 
They  prattle  and  talk,  but  seldom  they  walk, 
Their  work  is  no  more  than  play : 
They  living  so  easy, 

Their  Stomachs  are  squesie,  [w-c. 

They  know  not  what  they  ail; 
But  His  not  so,  etc.  66 

When  e're  they  have  been  too  free, 

And  happen  with  child  to  be, 

The  Doctor,  be  sure,  is  sent  for  to  cure 

This  two-legged  tympany  :  [«.,.  swelling. 

And  thus  the  physiciaD 
Must  hide  their  condition, 
For  fear  they  spoyl  their  sale, 
But  His  not  so,  etc.  77 

There's  Margery,  Ciss  and  Prue, 

Right  country  girls  and  true, 

Nay  Bridget  and  Jone,  full  well  it  is  known, 

They'l  dabble  it  in  the  dew  : 
They  trip  it  together, 
And  fear  not  the  weather, 

Although  both  rain  and  hail : 
Full  well  you  knoio,  aivay  we  go, 
Through  frost  and  snow,  when  winds  do  blow, 

To  carry  the  milking-payl.  88 

Printed  for  P.  Brooksby,  at  the  Golden-Ball  in  Pye-  Corner. 
[Black-letter.     Cuts:  Milkmaid,  post ;  3  Ladies,  pp.  16,  26.     Date,  1685-88.] 


[Roxburghe  Coll.,  II.  205;  Pepys,  III.  45  ;  Jersey,  I.  21  ;  Euing,  137.] 

Ci)e  $appp  i^usbanDman : 


Ccmmrp  Innocence* 

To    A   PLEASANT   NEW    COURT    TlJNE. 

This  may  be  Printed.     R,[ichard]  P[ocock~|. 

MY  young  Mary  do's  mind  the  Dairy, 
While  I  go  a  Howing  and  Mowing  each  morn ; 
Then  hey  the  little  spinning-wheel 
Merrily  round  do's  reel, 

"While  I  am  singing  amidst  the  corn  : 
Cream  and  kisses  both  are  my  delight, 
She  gives  me  them,  and  the  joys  of  night ; 
She's  soft  as  the  air,  as  morning  fair, 
Is  not  such  a  maid  a  most  pleasing  sight  ? 

While  I  whistle,  she  from  the  thistle 
Does  gather  down  for  to  make  us  a  bed, 
And  then  my  little  Love  does  lie 
AIL  the  night  long,  and  dye — 

In  the  kind  arms  of  her  nown  dear  Ned ; 
There  I  taste  of  a  delicate  spring, 
But  I  mun  not  tell  you,  nor  name  the  thing, 
To  put  you  a  wishing,  and  think  of  Kissing, 
For  kisses  cause  sighs,  and  young  men  shou'd  sing. 

Sedge  and  rushes,  and  tops  of  bushes 

Shall  thatch  our  roof,  and  shall  strow  all  our  floar, 

And  then  the  pritty  Nightingales 

Will  fly  from  groves  and  dales 

To  live  with  us,  and  we'll  ne'er  be  poor : 


30       The  Happy  Husbandman  ;  or,  Country  Innocence. 

Little  lambkins  whenever  they  dye 

Will  bequeath  new  blankets  to  thee  and  I, 

Our  quilts  shall  be  roses,  which  June  disposes ; 

So  warm  and  so  sweet  my  young  Love  shall  lie.  27 

Fountains  pure  shall  be  thy  ewer 
To  sprinkle  water  upon  thy  fair  face  ; 
And  near  the  little  flock  shall  play 
All  the  long  Summer's  day  ; 

Gentle  white  lambs  will  adorn  the  place. 
Then  at  night  we'll  hie  home  to  our  hive, 
And  (like  bees)  enjoy  all  the  sweets  alive  : 
We'll  taste  all  Love's  treasure,  and  enjoy  that  pleasure, 
While  others  for  Fame  and  for  greatness  strive.  36 

No  man's  frowns  are  on  the  Downs, 
For  truly  there  we  most  freely  may  sing, 
And  kiss  the  pretty  Nancies, 
Wliile  changes  and  chances 

Amuse  all  the  Great,  and  disturbance  bring, 
We  will  with  our  young  lambs  go  to  bed, 
And  observe  the  lives  that  our  Fathers  led  ; 
We'll  mind  not  ambition,  nor  sow  sedition, 
And  leave  State-affairs  to  the  state-man's  head.  45 

Oaten  reeds  (those  humble  weeds) 

Shall  be  the  pipes  upon  which  we  will  play, 

And  on  the  merry  mountain, 

Or  else  by  a  fountain 

We'll  merrily  pass  the  sweet  time  away  : 
Sure  no  mortal  can  blame  us  for  this. 
And  now  mark  the  way  of  your  London  Miss, 
She  masters  your  breeches,  and  takes  your  riches, 
While  we  have  more  joys  by  a  harmless  kiss.  54 

No  youth  here  need  willow  wear, 

No  beauteous  maid  will  her  Lover  destroy : 

The  gentle  little  Lass  will  yield 

In  the  soft  daisy  field, 

Freely  our  pleasures  we  here  enjoy : 
No  great  Juno  we  boldly  defie, 
With  young  Chris'  cheeks,  or  fair  Cello's  eye  ; 
We  let  all  those  things  alone,  and  enjoy  your  own, 
Every  night  with  our  Beauties  lie.  63 

Printed  for  P.  Broolcsly,  at  the  Golden  Ball,  in  Pye-  Comer. 

[In  Black-letter.     Three  cuts:  two  on  p.  29,  and  the  man  with  staff  on  p.  31. 
Date,  as  Licensed,  between  August,  1685,  and  December,  1688.] 


[Roxb.  Coll.,  II.  222  ;  Pepys,  III.  11 ;  Douce,  I.  97  ;  Jersey,  I.  75  ;  C.  22.  c.  126.] 

Ci)e  ^unttngtom0!)tre  j&iotoman ; 

©r,  the 

potoman'js  Complaint  for  tge  1000  of  fiiss  part's*  tBtltgfit^ 

True  Love  alone,  does  cause  my  moan,  such  sorrows  I  possess, 
1  being  left  of  joys  bereft,  to  languish  in  distress. 

Tune  op,  My  Child  must  have  a  Father.    This  may  be  Printed.   R.  P. 

YOung-men  and  Maids  I  pray  attend,  unto  a  Plow-man's  ditty  ; 
It  is  to  you  these  lines  I  send,  in  hopes  that  you  will  pitty 
My  sad  and  woeful  destiny,  I  being  now  forsaken  ; 
I  thought  sbe  lov'd  no  man  but  me,  yet  I  was  much  mistaken. 

I  counted  her  my  heart's  delight,  and  doated  on  her  beauty  ; 
I  could  have  serv'd  her  day  and  night,  and  counted  it  my  duty : 
My  love  to  her  I  made  appear,  at  e'ry  time  and  season, 
Yet  I  am  slighted  by  my  dear,  and  know  not  what's  the  reason. 

Except  the  meanness  of  my  state  does  cause  her  to  refuse  me  ; 

But  if  the  truth  I  may  relate,  she  ought  not  to  abuse  me  ; 

And  hold  my  person  thus  in  scorn,  in  giving  the  denyal ; 

For  tho'  I  am  a  Ploicman  born,  my  heart  is  true  and  loyal.  24 

No  rest  or  quiet  could  I  find,  my  love  is  out  of  measure ; 
She  still  was  running  in  my  mind,  I  counted  her  my  Treasure  : 
But  yet  at  me  she  still  would  scoff,  instructed  by  her  mother, 
And  at  the  length  did  leave  me  off,  and  marry'd  with  another. 

32  The  Huntingtonshire  Plough/nan's  Complaint. 

I  count  this  prov'd  my  overthrow,  by  being  far  asunder, 

So  that  I  daily  could  not  go,  therefore  I  now  lye  under 

The  sence  of  sorrow,  care  and  grief,  which  I  am  still  possessing, 

And  ne'r  expect  to  have  relief  or  to  enjoy  the  blessing. 

Tho'  she  by  Letters  knew  my  mind,  which  I  was  often  sending, 
Yet  now  I  find  her  most  unkind,  my  grief  is  without  ending  : 
In  chains  of  love  I  here  must  lye,  in  care  and  grief  surrounded  ; 
Alas  !  I  freely  now  could  dye,  for  why  my  heart  is  wounded.       48 

But  tho'  you  thus  do  torture  me,  as  I  too  well  do  know  it, 
I  must  and  will  your  Captive  be,  for  I  cannot  foregoe  it  : 
Therefore  always,  I'le  write  thy  praise,  in  this  my  love-sick  story, 
For  I  am  Will  the  Plowman  still,  and  will  set  forth  thy  glory. 

She  had  been  true  to  Cupid's  laws,  and  never  coy  nor  cruel, 
Had  not  her  mother  been  the  cause  :  I  had  enjoy'd  my  jewel : 
On  wealth  her  mother's  mind  was  bent,  she  greeded  out  of  measure, 
But  love  will  last  when  money' s  spent,  then  who  wou'd  wed  for  treasure  ? 

Young  men  that  hear  me  now  this  day,  which  have  a  mind  to  marry  ; 
Pray  do  not  linger  and  delay,  there's  danger  if  you  tarry  : 
When  e're  you  understand  and  find,  that  others  are  about  her, 
Pray  take  her  while  she's  in  the  mind,  for  fear  you  go  without  her. 

Printed  for  P.  Broolcsly,  at  the  Golden  Ball  in  Pye-  Corner. 

[In  Black-letter,  with  four  woodcuts.  The  first  is  the  man  with  staff,  of  Rwb. 
Ballads,  i.  171  ;  2nd,  a  girl  (like  one  on  p.  31,  with  a  different  man  and  staff) ; 
3rd,  the  girl,  of  vol.  iii.  617,  left ;  4th,  the  startled  lady  in  alcove,  vi.  76,  right. 
Date,  Focock  Licenser,  1685-88.     Tune,  My  child  must  have,  etc. ;  not  found.] 

QTfje  Shoemaker's  JDcIurfjt. 

' '  With  gentlenesse  iudge  you,  at  nothing  here  grudge  you, 
The  Merry  Shoe-makers  delight  in  good  Sport ; 
"What  here  is  presented,  be  herewith  contented  : 
And  as  you  doe  like  it,  so  giue  you  report." 

— Thomas  Deloney's  Gentle  Craft,  1627  ed. 

WE  are  unable  to  devote  space  to  the  Cordwainers,  Cobblers  and  Shoemakers, 
such  as  they  perhaps  deserve,  or  to  do  more  than  recommend  readers  to 
turn  to  Thomas  Deloney's  "booke  called  The  Gentle  Crafte,  intreating  of  Shoo- 
makers"  which  was  entered  on  19  October,  1597,  to  Eaphe  Blore,  in  the 
Stationers'  Registers  (C,  25  =  Transcript,  iii.  93).  The  earliest  edition  extant  is 
1598,  imperfect,  printed  for  Edward  White.  It  tells  how  Crispin  and  Crispianus, 
sons  of  King  Logrid  of  Britain,  and  of  Queen  Estreda,  were  sheltered  at 
Faversham,  Kent.  Crispin  wooed  and  married  Princess  Ursula,  whose  son  was 
born  in  the  shoemaker's  house.  Hence  the  saying,  "  A  shoemaker's  son  is  born 
a  Prince."     From  their  high  lineage,  shocmaking  is  named  '  The  Gentle  Craft.' 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  424;  IV.  70;  Jersey,  III.  81.] 

2L  Seto  ^Dialogue  bcrtmjrt  a  MtguCoimttp  *s>gooMttaket 

an&  §t0  Ho&e* 

Who,  after  five  years  Travel  for  her  sake, 

He  hack  return'd,  and  she  amends  did  make  ; 

For  after  he  to  her  had  told  his  mind, 

She  seemed  not  at  all  to  him  unkind  : 

Young  men  and  maids,  then  read  these  lines,  and  see 

How  they  in  love  did  lovingly  agree. 

To  the  Tune  of,    When  Soil  will  cast  no  light.     [See  Note  on  p.  34.] 

ON  Midsummer  day,  as  I  abroad  was  -walking, 
A  young  man  and  a  maid  I  heard  a  talking  : 
Near  to  a  shady  grove,  flowers  were  springing, 
And  the  brave  Nightingale  sweetly  was  singing. 

The  young  man,  brisk  and  bold,  thus  fell  to  wooing, 

And  with  his  fair  maid  would  [he]  fain  be  doing  ;  [tramp. 

"With  speeches  meek  and  mild,  and  kind  entreating, 

Saying  his  heart  would  break,  if  she  forsake  him.  8 

"  My  joy  and  only  dear,  pray  thee  believe  me, 
If  thou  wilt  be  my  wife,  I'le  never  deceive  thee  ; 
No  store  of  means  I  have,  I  tell  thee  plainly, 
But  I'le  work  day  and  night  for  to  maintain  thee. 

""What  I  do  promise  thee  shall  be  performed, 
By  no  one  in  the  world  thou  shalt  be  wronged  : 
I'le  venture  life  or  limbs,  for  thee,  my  Jewell, 
Then  be  not  thou  unkind,  nor  prove  not  cruel.  16 

"lam  not  one  of  those  that  keeps  a  bragging, 
And  of  their  house  and  land  their  tongues  are  wagging. 
My  love  is  faithful  bent,  then  be  contented, 
If  thou  wilt  be  my  wife,  thou't  ne'r  repent  it. 

"  My  trade  it  still  will  hold,  this  I  am  certain, 
A  good  Husband  I  will  be,  my  dearest  darling ; 
I  am  of  Crispin'' s  trq,de,  a  brave  Shooemaker. 
He  loved  a  Princess  clear,  and  ne'r  forsak't  her.  [Vide,  p.  32. 

"  Nor  I'le  not  thee  forsake,  my  dearest  Betty, 
Thy  smiling  countenance  shineth  so  pretty, 
If  I  five  thousand  pound  had  in'  my  keeping, 
Thou  shouldst  it  all  command,  my  dearest  sweeting. 

VOL.    VII.  D 

34  The  Shoe-maker's  Delight. 

"  So  if  thou  can'st  but  find  in  heart  to  love  me, 
Speak  freely  now  thy  mind,  as  it  behooved  thee  ; 
Speak  freely  from  thy  heart,  if  thou  wilt  have  me, 
And  to  thee  I'Je  prove  true,  as  God  shall  save  me."  32 

The  Maid's  loving  reply. 

"  1\/T^  ^ove  an<^  on^  dear,  I  j°y  to  see  thee, 
JjX     For  when  you  absent  were,  oh  !  how  it  did  grieve  me  ; 
Both  day  and  night  I'le  swear,  I  thought  upon  thee  : 
I  wondred  in  my  heart  what  was  come  on  thee." 

The  Young  Man. 

"  These  five  long  years,  my  dear,  thou  know'st  I  wander, 
In  City  and  iu  Town,  like  any  stranger, 
And  am  return'd  again,  once  more  to  try  thee  : 
How  can'st  find  in  thy  heart  for  to  deny  me."  40 

The  Maid. 

"  Well,  seeing  thou  art  return'd,  thou  art  welcome  to  me, 
By  all  the  powers  above,  I'le  not  forgoe  thee ; 
Though  Father  frown  at  me,  and  mother  murmour, 
All  the  friends  that  I  have  shall  not  part's  in  sunder. 

"  Because  I  find  thee  plain  in  words  and  speeches, 
You  tell  me  that  you  have  no  store  of  riches, 
Me  to  maintain,  my  dear :  be  not  thou  fearful, 
I  have  five  hundred  pound,  if  thou  will  be  careful.  48 

"  Therefore  be  not  dismaid,  but  be  contented ; 
All  the  friends  that  I  have  shall  not  prevent  it; 
But  I  will  be  thy  wife,  and  will  endeavour 
To  lead  a  quiet  life  with  thee  for  ever." 

The  Toting  Man. 

"  Oh  !  how  my  heart  with  joy,  my  dear,  hath  filled, 
Because  to  my  request  kindly  she  yielded  ; 
Now  we  will  live  in  peace  and  love  together, 
As  the  old  Proverb  goeth,  '  Like  birds  of  a  feather.'  "  56 

Thus  you  may  plainly  see  that  time  and  leisure 

Many  things  brings  to  pass,  therefore  endeavour. 

Young  men,  prove  constant  still;  maids,  do  not  dissemble  ; 

And  then  you  need  not  fear  for  to  live  single. 

Printed  for  P.  Broolcsby,  at  the  Golden  Ball,  in  West-Smithjield. 

[Black-letter.  Woodcut,  of  shoemakers  revelling,  not  re-engraved :  see  instead 
p.  3o.  For  the  tune,  "  The  Pensive  Maid,"  beginning  "  When  Sol  will  cast 
no  light,"  is  given  in  Second  Naval  Group.  Date,  between  1672  and  168|. 
For  Postscript  to  p.  32,  Aly  child  must  haw  a  father,  see  p.  99.] 


[Koxburghe  Collection,  III.  662  ;  Douce  Coll.,  III.  38  verso.] 

Cfte  Gentle  Craft's  Complaint :  or,  €&e  Jollp 

J£Jjoc=mafcers  fjumble  Petition  ta  tije  (&ueen  ana  Parliament ; 
rjottfi  tfj£t'r  great  fjopes  of  tfje  &o&ancement  of  eari)  ILeatfjer  2Traoe. 

Tune  of,  Now,  comes  on  the  glorious  Year.     [See  vol.  vi.  pp.  617,  621.] 

THE  jolly  Shoemakers,  it  is  said,  ha[ve]  found  a  great  decay  of  Trade, 
And  lately  have  been  sore  dismay'd,  and  in  a  dismal  taking, 
Because  the  Leather  was  grown  dear,  and  carried  over  sea,  we  hear  ; 
But  Gentle  Craftsmen,  never  fear,  you'll  still  be  brisk  Shoemak[ingj. 

It  is  a  noble  ancient  trade,  no  man  on  earth  can  it  degrade, 
And  must  the  Craft  now  be  decay' d,  no,  no,  be  not  mistake[rs]. 
Crispin  and  Crispianus  too,  the  town  of  Feversham  well  knew, 
And  likewise  noble  good  St.  Hugh,  were  all  of  them  Shoemakers. 


This  craft  was  never  held  in  scorn,  Sir  Thomas  Eyer  did  it  adorn,    [Sir  Simon. 
'  A  Shoemaker's  son  a  Prince  is  born  ;  '  but  now  they've  undertaken,     CP-  32. 
To  send  their  grievance  to  our  Queen,  in  hopes  a  draw-back  to  obtain, 
And  the  Parliament  their  case  hath  seen,  they'll  still  be  brisk  Shoemakers. 

This  is  the  substance  of  their  state,  much  unwrought  leather  was  of  late 
Sent  over,  and  the  taxes  great,  made  jolly  hearts  to  ake,  Sir. 

*^*  "We  give  another  Shoemakers' -Ballad,  although  of  later  date,  the  reign  of 
Queen  Anne.  The  yielding  honour  to  "  the  town  of  Feversham  "  (where  James  II. 
was  maltreated,  1688),  in  connection  with  SS.  Crispin  and  Crispianus  (1.  7),  may 
be  considered  a  solatium  for  unenviable  notoriety  gained  by  that  worthy  Medway- 
side  borough  at  the  time  when  Arden  of  Feversham  was  murdered  (see  the  ballad 
on  a  later  page),  or  because  it  had  given  birth  to  John  Ward  the  renowned  Pirate 
and  Runagate  (as  shown  by  us  in  vol.  vi.  p.  425,  and  p.  784  of  Appendix). 
"  S.  Hugh,"  of  line  15  and  line  83  :  "  St.  Hugh's  Bones  "meant  the  Cobbler's  tools. 

Sir  Simon  [not  Thomas]  Eyre,  Shoemaker,  was  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  1445. 

36  The  Gentle  Craft's  Complaint. 

To  think  their  trade  should  so  decay,  for  many  out  of  business  lay, 

Each  'prentice  had  no  heart  to  stay,  that  will  be  brisk  Shoemakers.  32 

The  Parliament  hath  heard  their  grief,  and  quickly  will  extend  relief, 
For  thousands  of  the  very  chief  of  them  hafve  been]  undertakers] 
In  this  great  action  to  proceed,  and  there's  no  doutit  but  will  succeed, 
And  by  our  Senate  be  decreed  to  make  them  brisk  Shoemakers. 

All  others  that  in  Leather  deal,  the  comfort  too  will  also  feel, 
What  those  trades  are  we  shall  reveal,  Glovers  and  TTarness-makers  ; 
Coach-makers,  Tanners.  Skinners  too,  Translators'  joys  it  will  renew, 
Then  toss  off  healths,  Boys,  since  'tis  true,  you'll  still  be  brisk  Shoemakers. 

The  Book-binders  doth  leather  use,  and  boys  for  Satchels  doth  it  chuse, 
As  well  as  he  that  mendeth  Shoes,  so  doth  the  Breeches-maker. 
The  Bellows-maker  too  beside,  he  is  oblig'd  to  use  bulls'  hides, 
Then  craftsmen  lay  all  cares  aside,  you'll  soon  be  brisk  Shoe-makers. 

It  was  your  brave  Boys,  by  free  consent,  that  humbly  in  full  body  went, 

Unto  our  noble  Parliament,  as  you  had  undertaken. 

As  a  just  reward  for  all  to  see,  this  nation  will  recorded  be, 

Then  toss  full  bumpers,  let  them  flee,  to  the  Honour  of  Shoe-makers.  64 

Our  noble  Parliament  you'll  find,  to  English  Tradesmen  will  prove  kind, 
And  ever  will  your  interest  mind,  just  now  'tis  undertaken. 
They  have  consider'd  your  Address,  our  noble  Peers  could  do  no  less. 
Whilst  all  the  world  must  still  confess,  you're  honest  brisk  Shoe-makers. 

No  longer  need  you  sigh  and  pine,  but  toss  to  Anna  flasks  of  wine,  [N.B. 

The  noble  Craft  will  clearly  shine,  no  damp  will  overtake  them. 

Then  let  a  general  joy  abound,  in  ev'ry  incorporated  town, 

And  great  Augusta's  joys  be  crown'd,  to  honour  her  Shoe-makers.  80 

Each  journey-man  and  prentice  too,  and  masters,  without  more  ado, 

May  wear  the  bones  of  great  St.  Hugh,  for  work  will  ne'er  forsake  them.  [p.  35. 

The  case  will  soon  be  alter' d  quite,  each  in  his  labour  may  delight, 

Then  toss  a  jug  or  two  each  night,  for  the  Honour  of  Shoe-makers. 

Then  jolly  gentle  Craftsmen  all.  be  merry,  whatsoe'er  befal, 

There  will  for  you  be  a  great  call,  you  are  not  yet  forsaken. 

Then  hollow.  Boys,  with  a  loud  huzza,  and  for  our  gracious  Sovereign  pray, 

You'll  have  redress  without  delay,  and  still  be  brisk  Shoemakers.  96 

Then  let  the  Pitcher  walk  amain,  and  drink  their  Healths  up  o'er  again, 
Who  your  complaints  did  not  disdain,  when  you  thought  you  were  forsaken. 
'Tis  our  good  Parliament  I  mean,  and  royal  Anne  our  noble  Queen, 
Who  England'' s  friends  have  ever  been,  now  proves  the  brave  Shoe-makers. 

Then  let  all  sorrows  have  an  end,  and  God  [h]is  blessings  down  will  send, 
And  eke  this  noble  Craft  defend,  and  never  will  forsake  them. 
But  Trade  and  business  will  encrease,  let  fears  of  wanting  now  quite  cease, 
May  nought  but  health  and  wealth  and  peace  attend  the  brave  Shoe-makers. 

Then  to  conclude,  once  more  rejoice,  sing  Crispin's  fame  in  heart  and  voice, 
Throw  up  your  hats  with  '  Huzza,  Boys,'  [of]  great  joys  you  are  partakers  ; 
Which  will  to  you  be  now  rcstor'd,  then  toss  the  bumper  o'er  and  o'er, 
Bemember  these  dull  times  no  more :  you  still  are  brave  Shoe-makers.         120 

[No  colophon  in  either  copy.  In  White-letter.  Witli  two  woodcuts  :  one 
representing  S.  Crispin  and  S.  Crispianus  ;  the  other  is  a  neat  little  cut  of 
a  boy  holding  the  foot  .of  a  lady  who  is  seated  in  a  chair.  This  pretty  lad, 
Crispin,  knows  the  length  of  her  foot.     Date,  Queen  Anne's  reign,  1702-1714.] 


[Roxburghe  Coll.,  II.  216;  Pepys,  IV.  350  ;  Hutli,  I.  134;  Jersey,  I.  344.] 

CSe  ©onest  €ra&e0man's  honour  FinntcateD; 


&tje  Btacfaoocta  quEl"b,  as  in  tfjts  Dt'ttg  out  fs  Jjelo, 

Or,  a  merry  Dialogue  between  a  Swash  Blade 
And  an  Artist  of  London  to  vindicate  trade  : 
With  merry  jibes,  jears  and  trumps, 
To  drive  melancholly  men  out  of  their  dumps  : 
Ptn'd  to  make  them  merry  when 
Melancholly  doth  possess  the  brain. 

The  Tune  is,  General  Monk  was  a  Noble  Man,  etc.    [See  vol.  vi.  p.  136.] 

Gentleman.  ' 

I  Am  a  gallant  Blade  indeed,  and  gay  apparel  wear, 
A  fig  for  Trade,  and  a  crown  for  a  maid,  and  a  fart  for  sorrow  and  care  : 
I  am  a  Jovial  Gentleman,  I  love  sport  and  recreation, 
Though  1  have  neither  house  nor  land,  I  keep  myself  in  good  fashion. 

Some  Gentlemen's  care  is  a  lass  in  his  lap,  whil'st  he  at  a  Tradesman  is  flowting, 
Dol  with  a  dish  clout  hath  painted  her  face,  and  scorns  with  her  hands  to  be  working  : 
She  thought  to  be  called  high  in  name,  no  less  than  a  lady  I  wis, 
She  decked  herself  in  silk  an'  in  satten,  yet  she's  but  an  ugly  Puss.  16 

Alas,  good  Sir,  when  did  you  come  from  the  Citie's  labouring  trade  ? 
Look  back  again  now  towards  home,  and  see  what  for  you  is  made, 
Your  wife  for  you  has  made  a  crown,  a  gallant  fair  pair  of  horns, 
"Whilst  you  are  here  in  our  country,  with  one  that  your  calling  scorns. 

It  comes  into  my  memory,  sir,  now  you  talk  of  scorning, 
Do  you  remember  the  Oyster  Wench  you  met  with  one  Munday  morning. 
When  she  was  in  her  silver  laced  gown,  oh  then  you  began  to  woe  her  ; 
But  when  she  cried  '  Oysters  '  in  the  Town  you  scorn'd  as  much  to  know  her. 

We  Gentlemen  live  merry  lives,  you  but  M  ec[h]annicks  are,  Sir, 
Therefore  to  us  you  must  make  known,  when  ever  we  do  come,  sir ; 
You  Tradesmen  unto  it  are  tyde,  you  must  work  hard  for  money, 
Whilst  merrily  abroad  we  ride,  to  hunt  the  Fox  and  Coney.  Hare,  p.  87. 

Now  that  you  talk  of  Hunting,  Sir,  one  thing  comes  in  my  mind  ; 
You  nothing  have  to  doe  but  hunt,  therefore  it  comes  by  kind  : 
A  hind  I  do  remember  well,  you  lately  had  in  chase, 
Her  belly  high  begins  to  swell,  and  you  absent  the  place.  48 

2H)e  Sccono  Part,  to  the  same  tune. 


TOu  Tradesman  at  your  work  do  moyl,  whilst  we  to  mirth  incline,  Sir  : 
But  we  do  scorn  so  much  to  toyle,  except  it  be  at  the  wine,  Sir  : 
You  Tradesmen  have  great  rents  to  pay,  for  that  we  take  no  care, 
We  rant  and  rore  it,  night  and  day,  we  spend  and  never  spare. 

38  The  Honest  Tradesman'' s  Honour  Vindicated. 

Now  that  you  talk  of  rents,  good  Sir,  of  Musick  and  of  Wine, 
To  pay  your  debts  do  not  defer,  to  your  Landlady  so  fine  ; 
Her  daughter  Dol  is  in  great  fear,  she  shall  not  see  your  face, 
You  have  left  her  to  shed  many  a  tear  and  reap  your  sown  disgrace.  64 

If  into  the  country  we  hut  ride,  out  ten  miles  from  the  city, 
No  sooner  have  they  our  face  spy'd,  but  this  will  be  their  Ditty, 
"  Your  worship's  welcome  to  the  town,  pray.  Sir,  what  will  you  have  ?  " 
Thus  are  we  known  of  every  clown,  and  of  each  fool  and  knave. 

Sir,  now  you  talk  of  fools  and  knaves,  of  country  men  and  clowns, 
And  of  true  dealing  honest  men,  that  dwell  in  country  towns, 
Were't  not  for  them,  full  well  I  know,  long  we  could  not  live  here, 
They  toyl  to  plow,  to  reap  and  sow,  to  feed  's  with  bread,  beef,  and  beer. 

Sir,  this  I  grant  for  to  be  true,  that  we  by  them  are  fed ; 
No  company  l'le  keep  with  you,  for  I  am  better  bred : 
Seest  thou  my  Eapier  by  my  side,  a  broad  Hat  and  long  curl'd  hair ; 
My  breeches  at  the  knees  so  wide,  that  they  would  make  four  pair. 

Sir,  if  for  your  Eapier  you  had  paid,  your  Cutler  would  not  frown, 
Nor  your  Eever-maker  have  been  afraid  of  your  riding  out  of  town  ; 
Your  Taylor  he  lamenteth  still,  for  a  truth  I  heard  it  said, 
Oft  viewing  of  his  long  bill,  which  you  have  left  unpaid.  96 

Sir,  for  this  present  I  will  rest,  and  will  no  more  contend, 
I  do  protest  that  man  is  blest  that  is  the  Tradesman's  friend, 
You  work  and  sing  all  care  away,  and  drink  ale,  beer,  and  wine,  r-See  yote 

"Whil'st  Gentlemen  do  now  and  then  with  great  Duke  Humphrey  dine.  [_at  end. 

Good  God  preserve  our  Eoyal  King,  the  Progeny  defend, 
With  the  rest  of  the  Eoyal  Off-spring  from  those  that  would  contend  : 
And  God  so  bless  the  Parliament  that  they  good  laws  may  make, 
Our  future  dangers  to  prevent,  and  thus  my  leave  I  take.  112 


[Publisher's  name  cut  off,  hut  Pepys's  copy  has  "  Printed  for  W.  T.,  T.  P.,  and 
W.  W."  that  is,  for  W.  Thackeray,  Thomas  Passinger,  and  William  Whitwood. 
In  Black-letter,  with  two  woodcuts,  which  are  given  in  vol.  vi.  p.  237. 
Date  of  original  issue,  circa  1662,  earlier  than  this  edition  of  circa  1670.] 

*#*  Note. — "  To  dine  with  Duke  Humphrey  (13th  stanza,  last  line)  was  a 
well-known  jesting  phrase,  significant  of  going  without  any  dinner,  while 
strutting  about  as  a  gallant  in  fine  clothes,  near  the  tomb  or  monument  of 
Humphrey,  the  good  Duke  of  Gloucester,  or  in  Paul's-walk.  The  allusions  to 
the  King's  progeny  (next  stanza)  seem  to  date  the  original  issue  of  the  ballad 
to  the  time  of  Charles  I.,  about  1640,  and  before  the  Civil  Wars  began.  It 
cannot  refer  to  Charles  II.  or  William  III.,  who  had  no  legitimate  children, 
and  is  unlikely  to  have  meant  James  II.  since  his  daughters  were  unpopular  until 
they  became  queens ;  while  the  interval  after  the  birth  of  the  Prince  of  Wales 
and  before  the  Eevolution  was  too  brief  to  account.     The  tune  is  of  1661. 


Cfic  Clerft  of  lBo&min'.s  ®onip  ^onrj. 

si  T  the  Land's  End  two  lonely  Students  met, 
"^      (Drifts  from  the  great  metropolis  of  brick,) 
And,  as  their  Scotch  friends  say,  '■forgathered  quick,'' 

As  tho'1  for  months  they'd  danced  in  the  same  set. 

They  rambled  round  the  coast,  got  tired  and  wet, 
Rocked  Logan- Stone,  like  boys,  with  ivalking -stick  : 
Then  sailed  to  Kynance-Cove,  not  feeling  sick  : 

St.  Ives  and  Michael's-Mount  they'll  ne'er  forget. 

The  fish-wives  brought  them  grapes  ;  the  florists,  hake  ! 

Pilchards  drew  nigh  in  shoals,  of  self-accord  ; 
Tin-mines  decoyed  them  down,  their  necks  to  break  ; 

Each  Cornish  marvel  pleased  them,  nothing  bored. 
To  ripen  friendship,  there  begun,  pray  take 

'Karl's  Legacy'  with  this  Memorial  word.1— Trowbesh  MS. 

W  HEN  he  visited  Cornwall  in  1798,  Charles  Dibdin  renewed 
his  strength,  mental  and  bodily,  in  the  pure  air,  the  grand  and 
lovely  scenery,  with  the  companionship  of  those  whom  he  called, 
in  one  of  his  most  spirited  ditties,  the  "  sturdy  Cornish  miners." 
His  Entertainment  Sans  Souci,  "  A  Tour  to  the  Land's  End,"  soon 
recorded  his  enjoyment.  Fortunately  he  went  more  than  a  century 
too  late  to  be  encountered  by  the  pietistic  Clerk  of  Bodmin,  whose 
"  Very  Godly  Song  "  we  here  reprint. 

Our  later  generation  accepts  Zolaistic  Realism  and  stale  theology 
from  female  novelists  (who  gather  the  refuse  of  French  or  Tubingen 
dust-bins,  and  thereafter  fling  their  dreary  disputations  to  a  mixed 
multitude  of  loose  thinkers,  crazy  with  weak  '  fads ' ;  to  'frisky 
matrons '  and  Demi-mondaines  of  over-ripe  maturity).  It  is  not 
justified  in  casting  stones  at  the  Stuart  populace  for  having  patiently 
endured  many  afflicting  sermons  in  ballad  form.  Men  who  had 
long  revelled  in  ghastly  horrors,  turned  instead  to  D'Urfey's  ditties. 
After  the  joyful  Restoration,  when  anarchy  had  been  over-mastered, 
they  rejected  blasphemous  literature,  and  encouraged  no  blatant 
sedition,2  except  from  Shaftesbury's  '  Protestant  brisk  boys.' 

1  May-day,  1874.     (To  the  late  Mrs.  J.  S.  Mitchell.) 

2  On  the  prevalence  of  unbelief  among  those  who  by  education  and  University 
training  ought  to  maintain  faith  and  loyalty,  in  Oxford,  the  stronghold  of  ortho- 
doxy and  devotion,  hear  Bishop  Alexander,  in  St.  Augustine's  Holiday,  1886 : 

"  They  torture  all  the  record  of  the  Life, 

Give — what  from  France  and  Germany  they  get  ; 
To  Calvary  carry  a  dissecting  knife, 
Parisian  patchouli  to  Olivet. 
"  They  talk  of  critical  battle-flags  unfurl'd, 

Of  the  winged  sweep  of  Science  high  and  grand  — 
And  sometimes  publish  to  a  yawning  world 

A  book  of  patchwork  learning  second-hand." — New  Atlantis. 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  544  ;  Bagford,  II.  48;  Pepys,  II.  41  ;  Wood,  401, 
65;  Jersey,  II.  258;  Euing,  371;  Rawlinson,  181.] 

a  toerp  0oMp  ^onrj,  intitulet),  tftc  (ZEarncst  petition 

of  lf)E  faitfjful  Christian,  orintj  (Clerk  of  JSodnam,1  ntaoe  upon 
ty's  J3cat!)-I)£tr,  at  tJje  instant  of  ^is  ^Transmutation. 

To  a  sweet  solemn  Tine  [its  own]. 

ySft**  ?^!ie=^yli^iiji 

NOw  my  painful  eyes  lye  rowling,  and  my  passing-bell  is  fowling, 
Towling  sweetly,  I  lye  dyiDg,  and  my  life  is  from  me  flying. 

Grant  me  strength,  0  gracious  God,  for  to  endure  thy  heavy  rod, 
Then  shall  I  rejoyce  and  sing,  with  Psalms  unto  our  heavenly  King. 

Simeon,  that  blessed  man,  believed  Christ  when  he  was  come,  [S.  Luke,  ii.  25. 
And  then  he  did  desire  to  dye,  to  live  with  him  eternally. 

Christ  wrougbte  me  a  strong  Salvation,  by  his  bitter  death  and  passion  ; 
He  hath  wash'd  and  made  me  clean,  that  I  should  never  sin  again. 

Grievous  pains  doth  call  and  cry,  "  0  man  prepare  thy  self  to  dye  !  " 

All  my  sins  I  have  lamented,  and  to  dye  I  am  contented.  20 

*#*  Bodnam  —  Bodman  in  "Wood's  broadside  printed  for  F.  Colts,  etc.,  =  Bodmin, 
in  Cornwall,  "wretchedly  prone  to  gloomy  views  of  pessimistic  false-religion 
from  early  days,  and  without  any  sign  of  improvement  so  long  as  the  '  Curse  of 
Camborne'  is  tolerated:  an  ugly  specimen  of  an  evil  type,"  says  Dervaux.  The 
late  Edward  Lear,  who  raised  the  veritable  "Leer  of  Private  Life,"  being  the 
provider  of  enjoyment  without  alloy,  found  Bodmin  and  Camborne  unsusceptible 
of  civilization  by  good  humour.  He  could  not  advance  '  Westward  Ho  ! '  beyond 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  immortal  Cornish  Chough,  in  his  first  Book  of  Nonsense, 
"  There  was  an  old  man  of  LisJceard, 

Who  said,  '  It  is  just  as  I  fear'd ; 
Two  owls  and  a  hen,  Four  larks  and  a  wren, 
Have  all  made  their  nests  in  my  beard  ! '  " 
Perhaps  this  man  may  have  been  a  descendant  of  the  Parish -Clerk  at  Bodmin. 


Earnest  Petition  of  the  faithful  Clerk  of  Bodmin.        41 

Silly  Soul  the  Lord  receive  thee,  Death  is  come,  and  Life  must  leave  thee, 
Death  will  tarry  no  man's  leasure,  then  farewell  all  earthly  pleasure. 

In  this  world  I  nothing  crave,  but  to  bring  me  to  my  grave  ; 

In  my  grave  while  I  lye  sleeping,  Angels  have  my  soul  in  keeping. 

When  the  bells  are  for  me  ringing,  Lord  receive  my  soul  with  singing  : 
Then  shall  I  be  free  from  pain,  to  live,  and  never  dye  again. 

"While  the  worms  corrupting  breed  on,  wait  my  noisome  corps  to  feed  on, 
My  fervent  soul  this  prison  loathing,  craves  a  robe  of  angel's  cloathing. 

Farewel  world,  and  worldly  glory,  farewel  all  things  transitory, 

Sion  Hill  my  Soul  ascendeth,  and  God's  royal  throne  attendeth.  40 

Farewel  wife  and  children  small,  for  I  must  go  when  Christ  doth  call : 
And  for  my  death  be  ye  content,  when  I  am  gone  do  not  lament. 

Now  the  bell  doth  cease  to  toul,  siveet  Jesus  Christ  receive  my  soul. 

GOD  which  did  the  world  create,  hear  a  poor  sinner  at  the  gate, 
Thou  that  from  death  did'st  set  me  free,  remit  my  sins  and  show  mercy. 

0  Thou  that  caus'd  thy  blessed  Son  into  this  universe  to  come, 
Thy  Gospel  true  for  to  fulfill,  and  to  subdue  sin,  death,  and  hell  : 

Grant  for  his  sake  that  dy'd  on  tree,  on  the  blest  Mount  of  Calvary, 

That  I,  being  grieved  for  my  sin,  might  by  repentance  Heaven  win.  58 

The  Gospel  saith,  who  so  believe,  to  them  wilt  thou  a  blessing  give  ; 
Amongst  which  number  grant  me  faith  that  to  believe  the  Gospel  saith. 

Which  to  believe  grant  that  I  may,  though  here  I  dye,  yet  live  for  aye  ; 
Then  Saviour  sweet,  remit  my  sin,  and  grant  me  faith  that  life  to  win. 

And  since  Thy  death  a  price  most  great  hath  bought  us  here,  I  do  intreat 
To  give  me  grace  Thy  name  to  praise,  both  now  and  evermore  always. 

For  by  Thy  death  my  soul  is  free  from  Hell,  which  still  by  thy  decree 

To  sinners  all  for  siu  is  due,  until  thy  Son,  our  Saviour  true,  74 

Did  vanquish,  by  almighty  power,  death,  hell,  and  all  that  could  devour ; 
My  sins,  0  Lord,  I  do  confess,  like  sands  in  seas  are  numberless. 

Yet  though  my  sins  like  scarlet  show,  their  whiteness  may  exceed  the  snow, 
If  thou  thy  mercy  do  extend,  that  I  my  sinful  life  may  mend. 

"Which  mercy,  thy  blest  word  doth  say,  at  any  time  obtain  I  may, 

If  power  and  grace  in  me  remain,  from  carnal  sin  for  to  refrain.        [restrain  ? 

Then  give  me  grace,  Lord,  to  abstain  from  Sin,  that  I  may  still  remain 
With  thee  in  heaven,  where  angels  sing  most  joyfully  to  thee  our  King. 

God  grant,  0  Christ,  that  when  I  dye,  my  soul  with  thee  immediately 

May  have  abode  among  the  blest,  and  live  for  ever  in  true  rest.  94 

Printed  for  W.  Thackeray  in  Duck-lane. 

[Black-letter.  Two  woodcuts,  one  on  p.  40  is  common  to  E.  and  Bagford. 
Boxb.  agrees  with  Euing's  ;  Bagford's  white-letter  printed  for  Wm.  Daley  ; 
Pepys'  printed  for/.  Wright,  J.  Clarke,  Wm.  Thackeray,  and  T.  Passing  er ; 
Bawlinson's  and  Wood's  printed  for  F.  Coles,  T.  Vere,  and  W.  Gilbertson, 
dated,  1676.  Roxb.  2nd  cut,  three  skeletons  coming  from  graves,  belonged  to 
T.F.'s  Miraculous  Newes  from  the  Ciltie  of  Holdt,  in  Munster :  1616.  It  is 
copied  into  Mason  Jackson's  Pictorial  Press,  p.  28,  1885.] 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  III.  128;  Douce,  II.  178;  Euing,  No.  113.] 

P&ancie's  p&oentn 

©r,  Wyt  peerless  Paragon  of  tf)e  2Tfmcs. 

Being  a  oonng  ffiallnnt's  Description  of  a  Eatm  toljfcfj  rjc  Tjao  scttleo 
Ijt's  tijougljts  on,  rcsolbtng  neber  to  rijaiujc,  nor  to  lobe  ano  otljrr 
Beauto  or  tfacc  in  tlje  SMorlo. 

And  is  perswad[ed]  if  there  be 
A  Phoenix  in  the  world,  'tis  she. 

To    AN    AMOROUS    NEW    TUNE    [its    OWn]. 

(10me,  all  you  Batchellors  so  brave,  that  spend  your  time  in  Cupid's  Court, 
)     And  with  your  complements  do  crave  with  many  ladies  for  to  sport : 
I  am  contrary  to  your  mind,  I  court  but  one,  and  she's  unkind, 
Site's  vtrluous,  chaste,  and  if  there  be  a  Phcenix  in  the  world,  'tis  she. 

I  little  thought  I  ever  could  by  any  beauty  e're  be  won, 

Nor  can  I  now,  if  that  I  would,  remove  my  mind  on  any  one  ; 

No  wealth,  no  beauty,  nor  no  face,  my  fixed  thoughts  from  her  disgrace, 

She's  vertuous,  chaste,  and  if  there  be  a  Phcenix  in  the  world,  ' lis  she. 

I  must  confess  :    I  am  in  love,  although  I  thought  I  never  could, 
But  sure  she  was  sent  from  above,  and  made  of  Nature's  cheifest  mould, 
So  pure,  so  fair,  and  all  divine,  I'le  quit  the  world  to  make  her  mine  ; 
She  vertuous,  chaste,  and  if  there  be  a  Phoenix  in  the  world,  'tis  she. 


***  "  Fancy's  Phoenix  "  is  given  here  in  connection  with  the  ballad  on  p.  4,  viz. 
"The  Tradesman's  Complaint,"  sung  to  the  same  tune;  and  this  also  brings 
on  p.  44,  "  Fancy's  Favourite,"  the  natural  male  companion  of  "  Fancy's  Phoenix. " 

Fancy's  Phoenix ;  or,  The  Peerless  Paragon.  43 

Do  you  not  see  the  stars  retreat  when  Sol  salutes  the  sky  so  clear  ? 

So  must  all  beauties  ne're  so  great  shrink  and  withdraw  when  she  appear  ; 

So  bright,  so  clear,  that  all  must  say  'tis  fair  Roselia  claims  the  day, 

She's  vertuous,  chaste,  and  if  there  [be],  etc.  IW-  Wotton's  "You  meaner  b." 

Her  bashful  Cheeks  with  blushing  sweet,  cast  such  a  rich  vermillion  dye, 
That  rose  and  lilly  there  doth  meet,  each  striving  for  the  victory  : 
So  rare,  so  pure,  you'l  scarce  believe  dame  Nature  could  such  colours  give. 
She's  vertuous,  chaste,  and  if  there  [be],  etc. 

Her  eyes  like  sparks  of  diamond  clear,  such  glances  cast  in  merry  sort, 

No  wantonness  in  them  appears,  yet  Cupid  sure  here  keeps  his  court. 

'Twas  from  her  eyes  he  shot  his  dart  yt  thus  hath  pierced  my  love-torn  heart. 

She's  vertuous,  chaste,  and  if  there  [be],  etc.  48 

But  stay,  my  Muse,  what  need  have  I  to  praise  her  beauty  in  such  sort, 
"When  as  her  fame  abroad  doth  fly,  more  then  I  can  of  her  report ; 
"Were  she  to  me  as  kind  as  fair  then  might  I  live  and  not  despair. 
But  sure  I  think  if  that  there  be  a  Phoenix  in  the  World  'tis  she. 

For  she  desires  to  be  alone,  and  never  to  participate 

Her  love,  she  saith,  to  any  one  ;  but  single  liv's  without  a  mate  ; 

Such  thoughts  I  think  in  few  remain,  yet  doth  in  her :  the  more's  my  pain, 

Then  sure  I  think  if  that  there  be,  etc. 

Cruel  she  is  to  none,  I  hear,  no  more  she  is  not  unto  me  ; 

Nor  proud  she  is  not ;  that  is  rare,  you'l  say,  in  women  for  to  be. 

She's  courteous,  lovely,  chast,  and  fair,  'tis  few  that  can  with  her  compare, 

For  sure  I  think  if  that  there  be,  etc.  72 

Then  if  she  Phenix-like  will  live  and  dye  alone,  I  am  content ; 
My  heart  to  her  I'le  freely  give,  unto  no  other  I'le  consent, 
But  in  her  flames  my  heart  shall  burn,  and  Phoenix-like  to  ashes  turn, 
For  it  is  her,  and  none  but  she,  by  whom  I  must  revived  be. 

And  if  she  will  not  yeild  at  last,  but  still  her  resolution  hold,  ["text, 

I  will  not  think  my  time  ill  pass'd,  nor  yet  my  love  shall  ne're  wax  cold,  [_"  spent." 
To  stay  for  such  a  one  as  she,  I  think  no  time  there  lost  will  be, 
I'd  better  with  my  fancy  wed,  than  lodge  some  women  in  my  bed. 

If  that  you  needs  would  know  of  me  whereas  this  Phenix  doth  abide, 

For  that  I  must  excused  be,  yet  near  the  Strand  she  doth  reside. 

No  other  notice  will  I  give,  to  any  one  whilst  I  do  live ; 

And  if  she  doth  a  Phoenix  dye,  look  in  her  ashes  :  there  am  I.  96 

You  roving  Batchellors  that  be  resolved  for  to  spend  your  time, 
In  several  Maidens'  company,  when  as  their  beautys  are  in  prime ; 
Beware,  beware,  let  nature  guide  thee  to  a  Maid  to  make  thy  Bride : 
Let  not  her  beauty  tempt  your  eye,  [un]hast  vertue  too  in  her  you  spye. 

I  must  depart,  time  calls  away,  I  cannot  now  express  my  mind  ; 
This  Song  is  long  enough,  you'l  say,  unless  that  she  did  prove  more  kind. 
She's  vertuous,  chaste,  and  therefore  I  resolve  to  love  her  till  I  dye  : 
For  sure  I  think  that  if  there  be  a  Phoenix  in  the  world,  ''tis  she. 

[In  Black-letter.  "Woodcuts  as  on  p.  42.  No  publisher's  name  on  our  mutilated 
Boxburghe  broadside.  Euing's  was  printed  for  F.  Coles,  T.  Vere,  and  J.  Wright. 
Date,  before  1681,  when  Vere  died.  The  Lady  belongs  also  to  p.  28,  with  two 
others,  patched,  on  pp.  16  and  26  ;  also  a  Milkmaid  in  chintz,  given  later.] 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  168  ;  Pepys,  III.  29  ;  Erring,  115,  116  ;  Huth,  I.  105.] 

jfancie's  jratoourtte; 

©r,  &ty  ffltrrot  of  tfje  Eimts. 

Benin;  a  poung  3Latiics  cotnmenoation  of  a  poung  (Sallant,  infji'c^ 
ijatf)  a  long  time  sljcroco  Ijer  mud)  lobe;  nrijiclj  bo  \)i&  cibil 
carriage,  ano  long  patience  in  inatttng  on  Jjcr,  at  last  conqucreo 
\)ix,  uiljo  foas  once  rcsolbco  to  Icao  a  single  life,  ano  therefore  fye 
termco  fjer  tije  Phoenix  of  tf)e  Cimcs. 

To  the  tune  of,  Fancie' s  Phoenix.     [See  p.  42.] 

COme,  come  away,  you  Maidens  fair,  this  song  to  you  Twill  iiidite, 
'Tis  of  a  Young  Man  I'll  declare,  [of]  who[m]  in  praise  1  needs  must  write  : 
The  City  if  I  search  about,  I  scarce  shall  tind  his  fellow  out. 
He  hath  been  constant  noiv  to  me,  the  Mir r our  of  the  Times  is  he. 

I  must  confess,  I  once  did  mind,  a  single  life  to  live  and  dye ; 
But  such  rare  parts  in  him  I  find,  his  civil  suit  I  can't  deny, 
But  am  resolved  to  set  him  free,  and  grant  him  love  and  libertie : 
So  civil  he  hath  been  to  me  [the  Mirror  of  the  Times  is  he]. 

I  once  did  think  I  never  should  so  much  as  know  what  love  should  be, 

Nor  did  I  dream  he  ever  could  with  patience  so  have  conquered  me : 

His  comely  gesture  1  did  spie  made  me  delight  in  's  company, 

That  all  may  say  that  doth  him  see  [the  Mirror  of  the  Times  is  he~\.  24 

Did  you  e'r  see  that  glorious  Star  that  ushers  in  the  morning  bright, 
How  he  exceeds  all  other  far,  by  casting  forth  his  sparkling  light, 
So  all  do  say  as  much  by  he,  that  e'r  did  keep  his  company. 
His  carriage  doth  his  gesture  show,  he  is  admired  where  e'r  he  go. 

He  bashful  is,  yet  bold  also,  and  shews  it  with  a  gallant  grace, 
All  vaporing  Blades  he  scorns  to  know,  yet  scorns  he  for  to  hide  his  face, 
He'll  take  no  wrong,  nor  quarrels  breed,  but  stick  to  's  friend  in  time  of  need  : 
lie's  civil,  yet  he'll  merry  be  ;  [the  Mirror  of  the  Times  is  he]. 

If  any  where  you  should  him  spy,  in  maid  or  women's  company, 

No  wanton  looks  comes  from  his  eye,  at  any  time  as  you  e'er  shall  see  ; 

He'll  court,  he'll  kiss,  he'll  sing  or  play,  but  it  shall  be  in  a  modest  way, 

Tor  men  or  women's  company  [the  Mirror  of  the  Times  is  he"].  48 

BUt  stay,  my  Ten  doth  run  too  fast,  in  setting  forth  his  gallantrie, 
For  fear  I  lose  him  at  the  last,  then  cause  you'll  have  to  laugh  at  me, 
When  some  do  hear  of  him  they  may  persuade  his  love  from  me  away : 
But  if  they  gain  his  love  from  me,  none  constant  then  I  think  there  be. 

But  his  name  I  have  not  told,  nor  will  not  yet  you  may  be  sure, 
Till  of  him  I  can  get  faster  hold,  there's  no  one  here  shall  it  procure. 
You  Maidens  all  that  hear  my  song,  I  would  not  have  you  for  him  long. 
But  if  you  do,  persuaded  be,  you  may  find  some  as  good  as  he. 

A  Phoenix  he  hath  termed  me,  because  I  thought  to  lie  alone, 

But  if  that  such"  a  Bird  there  be,  out  of  this  climate  sure  she's  flown, 

Our  land  is  cold,  and  therefore  I  resolve  no  Phoenix  for  to  die. 

But  though  1  don't  his  Phoenix  prove,  yet  I  will  be  his  Turtle  Dove.  72 

Fancy  s  Favourite  ;  or,  The  Mirror  of  the  Times.        45 

There's  many  [a]  maiden  that  doth  say,  a  single  life  is  hest  at  ease, 
How  oft,  I  pray,  will  you  say  nay,  if  once  a  young  man  doth  you  please  ? 
I  must  confess  sometimes  you'll  prove  most  coy  to  him  you  most  do  love. 
What  by  experience  I  find  true,  pray  blame  not  me  to  tell  it  you. 

Let  me  advise  you,  Maidens  fair,  not  to  be  coy  nor  proud  at  all, 

For  those  that  count  themselves  most  rare  most  times  doth  get  the  greatest  fall : 

You  seldom  see  a  scornful  maid,  but  at  the  last  she  is  betray' d : 

Be  courteous,  yet  be  vertuous  still,  and  let  not  young  men  have  their  will. 

Chuse  not  a  Husband  for  estate,  unless  you  fancy  him  beside, 

You  may  repent  when  'tis  too  late,  'tis  for  a  life-time  you  are  ty'd ; 

No  Ranter  take,  if  you  be  wise,  nor  yet  none  of  the  new  precise :  \_N.B. 

The  one  ivill  rant  and  spend  thy  means,  the  other  closely  may  love  queans. 

But  now  my  Song  grows  to  an  end,  I  must  be  gone,  my  love  doth  stay, 

Last  night  I  did  unto  him  send  to  meet  me  at  a  place  to-day ; 

Where  we  intend  so  to  agi'ee,  in  what  Church  we  will  married  be : 

Then  Phoenix-like  we'll  live  and  dye,  in  the  pure  flames  of  Chastity.  104 

One  Love,  one  Faith,  we  do  exnress,  and  therefore  we  one  name  will  have, 

Our  love  so  great  is,  I  confess,  we  likewise  do  desire  one  grave ; 

To  his  desire  I  will  incline,  his  ashes  shall  be  joyned  with  mine, 

So  Phoenix-like  we  mean  to  lie,  and  Turtle-like  we'll  live  and  dye.  C.H.  [or,  G.H.] 

[In  Black-letter,  with  three  woodcuts,  viz.  the  lady  of  vi.  52  left ;  man,  vi. 
332,  right;  and  the  couple  of  figures,  iv.  383.  Two  cuts  in  Euing,  115; 
none  in  Euing,  116.  No  pub- 
lisher's name  in  Boxburghe  copy  ; 
but  Pepys's  printed  for  F.  Cotes, 
T.  Vere,J.  Wright,  and/.  Clarke 
(as  in  "  Fancy's  Phoenix,"  except 
the  addition  of  Clarke  in  the  part- 
nership.   Date,  before  1682.] 

[These  cuts  accompany  '  The  lamentation  of  the  Pedlars,'  p.  46.] 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  404  ;  Pepys,  IV.  297.] 

Cl)e  S>orrotofui  JUtmntation 

of  tf)t  prolan,  aim  pcttp  CJjapmnt,  foe  tfte  Jjartmcjjg 
of  tijt  ttmeg,  aim  tlje  occap  of  ^raoe* 

To  the  Tune  op,  My  Life  and  my  Death.     (See  pp.  47,  48.) 
This  may  be  Printed,  R[ichard]  P[ocock]. 

THE  times  are  grown  hard,  more  harder  then  stone, 
And  therefore  the  Pedlars  may  well  make  their  moan, 
Lament  and  complain  that  trading  is  dead, 
That  all  the  sweet  golden  fair  days  now  are  fled. 
Then  Maidens  and  Men,  come  see  what  you  lack, 
And  buy  the  fine  toys  that  I  have  in  my  Pack. 

Come  hither  and  view,  here's  choice  and  here's  store, 
Here's  all  things  to  please  ye,  what  would  you  have  more, 
Here's  points  for  the  Men,  and  pins  for  the  Maid, 
Then  open  your  purses  and  be  not  afraid  : 

Come  Maidens  [and  men,  Come  see  what  you  lack],  etc.  ]  2 

Let  none  at  a  Tester  repent  or  repine, 
Come  bring  me  your  money  and  1'le  make  you  fine, 
Young  Billy  shall  look  as  spruce  as  the  day, 
And  pretty  sweet  Betty  more  finer  then  May  : 

Then  Maidens  [and  men,  come  see  what  you  laclc],  etc. 

To  buy  a  new  Licence,  your  money  I  crave, 

'Tis  that  which  I  want,  and  'tis  th[is]  which  you  have  ; 

Exchange  then  a  Groat,  for  some  pretty  toy, 

Come  buy  this  fine  whistle  for  your  little  boy. 
Come  Maidens  and  Men,  come  see  ivhat  you  lack, 
Come  buy  my  fine  Toys  that  I  have  in  my  Pack.  24 

Here's  garters  for  hose,  and  cotten  for  shooes, 
And  there's  a  guilt  Bodkin  which  none  would  refuse, 
This  Bodkin  let  John  give  sweet  mistress  Jane, 
And  then  of  unkindness  he  shall  not  complain. 

Come  Maidens  [and  men,  come  see  what  you  lack],  etc. 

Come  buy  this  fine  Coife,  this  dressing  or  hood, 
And  let  not  your  money  come  like  drops  of  blood  ; 
The  Pedlar  may  well  of  Fortune  complain, 
If  he  brings  all  his  ware  to  the  market  in  vaine. 

Then  Maidens  [and  men,  come  see  what  you  lack],  etc.  36 

Sorrowful  Lamentation  of  Pedlars  and  Chapmen.         47 

Here's  bandstritigs  for  men,  and  there  you  have  lace, 
Bone-lace,  to  adorn  the  fair  Virgin's  sweet  face, 
"What  ever  you  like,  if  you  will  but  pay, 
As  soon  as  you  please  you  may  take  it  away. 

Then  Maidens  [and  men,  come  see  what  you  lack],  etc. 

The  World  is  so  hard,  that  we  find  little  trade, 
Although  we  have  all  things  to  please  every  Maid  ; 
Come  pretty  fair  Maids  then,  make  no  delay, 
But  give  me  your  hansel,  and  pack  me  away. 

Come  Maidens  [and  men,  come  see  what  you  lack~\,  etc.  48 

Here's  all  things  that's  fine,  and  all  things  that's  rare, 

All  modish  and  neat,  and  all  new  Lo?idon-\v&ve, 

Variety  here  you  plainly  may  see, 

Then  give  me  your  Money,  and  we  will  agree. 
Come  Maidens  and  men,  come  see  what  ye  lack. 
Come  buy  these  fine  Toyes  that  I  have  in  my  Pack. 

"We  travail  all  day  through  dirt,  and  through  mire, 
To  fetch  you  fine  laces  and  what  you  desire, 
No  pains  we  do  spare,  to  bring  you  Choice  "Ware, 
As  gloves,  and  perfumes,  and  sweet  powder  for  hair. 

Then  Maidens  [and  men,  come  see  what  you  lack~\,  etc.  60 

"We  have  choice  of  Songs  and  merry  books  too, 
All  pleasant,  and  witty,  delightful,  and  new, 
"Which  every  young  swain  may  whistle  at  Plough, 
And  every  fair  Milk-maid  may  sing  to  her  Cow.  [jv".b.  p.  24. 

Then  Maidens  [and  men,  come  see  ivhat  you  lack~\,  etc. 

Since  Trading's  so  dead,  we  must  needs  complain, 

And  therefore  pray  let  us  have  some  little  Gain  : 

If  you  will  be  free,  we  will  you  supply 

"With  what  you  do  want,  therefore  pray  come  and  buy. 
The  world  is  so  hard,  that  although  we  take  pains, 
When  we  look  in  our  Purses  we  find  little  gains.  72 

Printed  for  J.  Back,  at  the  Black-boy  on  London-bridge. 

[Black-letter.      Three  woodcuts.     1st  and  2nd  are  on  p.  45  ;  3rd,  the  lady  in  an 
archway,  vol.  vi.  p.  76,  right.     Date,  between  August,  1685,  and  1686.] 

%*  The  ballad  beginning  "My  life  and  my  death  "  is  preserved  in  the  Pepys 
Coll.,  III.  204.  It  is  entitled,  "  Love  and  Constancy  United ;  or,  The  Languishing 
Lady  made  Happy."  Licensed  by  R.  Pocock,  printed  for  C.  Dennison ;  warning 
against  counterfeits.  The  music  was  by  William  Turner,  and  the  song  is  given, 
music  and  words,  in  Henry  Playford's  Theater  of  Music,  1685,  i.  32;  and  in 
Pills  top.  Melancholy,  iii.  198,  edition  of  1719.  The  words  had  been  printed 
by  J.M.  for  /.  Back  in  1687,  in  a  '  Penny  Merriment '  entitled  '  The  Art  of 
Courtship,''  sheet  sign,  a  3.     Also  in  The  Loyal  Garland,  before  1686   edition. 

48  Original  Song  of'My  Life  and  my  Death." 


<2L  peasant  Ncfo  Song.    [&urelia  to  aiwig.] 

"Y  Life  and  my  Death  are  both  in  your  pow'r, 
I  never  was  wretched  'till  this  cruel  hour ; 
Sometimes,  it  is  true,  you  tell  me  you  Love, 
But  alas  !  that's  too  kind  for  me  ever  to  prove : 

Could  you  guess  with  what  pain  my  poor  heart  is  opprest, 

I  am  sure  my  Alexis  would  soon  make  me  blest. 

Distractedly  jealous  I  do  hourly  prove, 
Thus  sighing  and  musing,  'tis  all  for  my  Love  ; 
No  place  can  I  find  that  does  yield  me  relief, 
My  soul  is  for  ever  entangl'd  with  Grief  : 

But  when  my  kind  Stars  let  me  see  him  (oh  then  !) 

I  forgive  the  cruel  Author  of  all  my  past  Pain. 

Of  this  playhouse-song  the  unique  broadside-ballad  was  an  elongation. 
The  final  line  (unless  it  has  been  sorely  corrupted  from  the  original  manuscript) 
would  seem  fatal  to  a  supposition  that  Mistress  Aphra  Behn  wrote  the  words. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  whatever  that  the  Reply  came  direct  from  Tom  D'Urfey 
(see  the  Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  vol.  xvi.  p.  251--5,  J.W.E.'s  memoir 
of  him).  He  printed  it  in  his  Third  Collection  of  Poems  and  Songs,  1685,  p.  12, 
and  in  Pills  to  p.  Mel.,  ii.  57.    It  lacks  his  usual  gallantry,  but  goes  to  the  mark. 

ILofce  mnrjlintirtr.    £  Song  bg  WmU%. 

MY  Life  and  my  Death  were  once  in  your  power, 
I  languish' d  each  moment,  and  died  ev'ry  hour. 
But  now  your  ill  usage  has  open'd  my  eyes, 
I  can  free  my  poor  heart,  and  give  others  advice  : 
By  dissembling  and  lies  the  Coquet  may  be  Avon, 
But  he  that  loves  faithfully  will  be  undone. 

Time  was,  false  Amelia,  I  thought  you  as  bright 

As  Angels  adorn'd  by  the  glories  of  light ; 

But  your  pride  and  ingratitude  now,  I  thank  fate, 

Have  taught  my  dull  sense  to  distinguish  the  Cheat : 
And  now  I  can  see  in  your  Face  no  such  prize, 
No  charms  in  your  Person,  no  darts  in  your  Eyes. 

Fain,  fain  for  your  sake  my  Amours  I  would  end. 
And  the  rest  of  my  days  give  my  Books,  and  my  Friend  ; 
But  another  kind  Fair  calls  me  '  Fool,'  to  destroy 
For  the  sake  of  one  Jilt  my  whole  Life's  greatest  joy  : 

For  tho'  Friends,  Wine,  and  Books,  make  Life's  diadem  shine, 
Love,  Love  is  the  Jewel  that  makes  it  [divine].  [0J.  I. '  so  fine.' 

o-"J>eHg*b>'ft> — 

2T!je  Sobtal  Petilar. 

THE  collecting  of  hare-skins  and  rabbit-skins,  in  barter  for  his  "points  and 
pins,  with  laces  and  braces,  and  other  pretty  things,"  was  no  small  part  of  a 
Pedlar's  trade.  Two  distinct  ballads  in  the  Roxburghe  Collection  (III.  184,  and 
III.  656)  relate  the  knaveries  of  a  '  Proud  Pedlar,'  cheating  the  girls  who  trusted 
him.  Ballad-singers  held  privileges,  and  did  not  always  sing  Virginibus  puerisque 
in  conventicle  hymns.  There  is  no  compulsion  to  read  these  two  ditties  ;  the 
first  of  which  is  reprinted  from  a  mutilated  but  unique  exemplar.  The  other  is 
a  modern  '  slip-song,'  which  we  divide  for  a  substantial  reason,  to  save  space. 


[Eoxburghc  Collection,  III.  184,  Mutilated  throughout,  but  apparently  unique.] 

C6e  3lot)iall  Pettier; 

&  mcrrg  ntto  Bfttg,  iriljtrf)  is  botfj  fyarmlcsse,  pleasant,  anti  flUtttg. 

To  a  Pleasant  New  Tune. 

fPHere  was  [a]  Joviall  Pedler,  and  he  cryde  cony  skins, 

JL      [An]d  on  his  back  he  had  a  pack  [fu]ll  of  points  and  pins, 

[Wjith  laces  and  braces,  [an]d  other  prety  things. 

Hey  down,  ho  down  !  with  a  hey  down,  doivn, 

Down,  derry,  derry,  doivn,  the  Pedler  never  litis,  [ling  =  stops. 

But  still  doth  cry,  so  merry  merrily, 
'•  Maids,  have  you  any  Cony,  Cony-skins?"  13 

"  Maids,  bring  out  your  Cony-skins,"  the  Pedler  doth  you  pray  ; 
For  tben  you  may  have  points  or  pins,  be  they  black  or  gray  ; 

[Lines  are  lost  from  the  first  column,  the  rest  being  torn  away  ]  2f> 

The  Pedler  to  an  Ale-house  went  and  call'd  for  beere  and  ale, 
In  midst  of  all  his  merriment  his  purse  began  to  faile. 
His  laces  and  braces  and  all  his  prety  things  : 

Hey  down,  With  a  hey  down,  down,  Doivn.  39 

When  he  came  to  pay  the  shot  his  heart  grew  very  cold, 
For  he  had  broke  a  black  pot,  which  made  his  Ostesse  scold, 
And  all  his  money  spent,  which  made  him  to  lament, 

Hey  doivn,  With  a  hey  [etc.]  52 

VOL.    VII.  E 

50  The  Jovial  Pedlar. 

The  Pedler  took  his  cony-skins,  and  his  Cob-web  Lawn, 

The  Pedler  took  his  points  and  pins,  [and]  laid  them  there  to  pawn  : 

[His  laces]  and  braces,  [And  all  his  prety  things. 

Hey  down,  etc.]  [bottom  of  2nd  column  lost. 

2Tfj£  Scconfo  Part,  to  the  same  Tune. 

["With  early  woodcut :  two  men  wearing  bag-net  caps.] 

THe  Pedler  he  went  drunk  to  bed,  and  when  he  did  awake. 
Then  he  rememhred  what  he  did,  it  made  his  heart  to  ake. 
His  Ostesse  had  his  ware,  and  left  him  very  bare.     Hey  down.  78 

He  to  his  Ostesse  faire  did  say,  and  did  prevaile  so  farre, 
He  got  his  ware  of  her  again,  and  took  his  leave  of  her : 
He  took  up  his  pack,  and  hung  it  on  his  back.     Hey  down. 

The  high -way  it  was  very  deep,  which  sorely  troubled  him, 
Through  the  water  did  he  creep,  and  set  his  ware  to  swim  : 
His  laces  and  braces,  and  all  his  prety  things.     Hey  down. 

The  Pedler  on  a  hill  did  get,  and  laid  his  ware  to  dry. 

His  cony-skins  was  very  wet,  which  grieved  him  wondrously  : 

His  laces  and  braces,  and  all  his  prety  things.     Hey  down. 

The  Pedler  he  fell  fast  asleep,  and  as  asleep  he  lay, 

Up  the  hill  a  Knave  did  creep,  and  stole  his  ware  away  : 

His  laces  and  braces,  and  all  his  prety  things.     Hey  down.  130 

The  Pedler  waked  from  his  sleep,  [and]  found  his  ware  was  gone, 

[The  silly  sheep  he  could  but]  weep,  [then  went  his  journey  on,]    [Lost  linn. 

With  an  empty  pack  to  shew  what  he  did  lack.     Hey  down.  [3rd  column. 

[HHje  QTfjirtJ  Part,  to  the  same  Tune.] 

THere  was  two  lovely  Lasses,  that  in  one  house  did  dwell, 
The  one  of  them  was  bon[n]y  Kate,  the  other  bouncing  Nell: 
And  either  of  them  both  had  Cony-skins  to  sell.     Hey  down.  14  3 

Kate  brought  forth  her  Cony-skins,  from  under-neath  the  stakes, 

They  were  as  black  as  any  Jet,  and  [not]  of  silver  haires  :  ['  full ' 

The  Pedler  would  have  bought  them  rather  than  his  eares.         Hey  down. 

Nell  brought  forth  hers  to  sell,  one  of  another  view,  [MS.  'hewe.' 

They  were  as  good  as  good  might  be,  and  that  the  Pedler  knew. 

The  sawcy  Jack  set  down  his  pack,  and  set  his  wares  to  view.     Hey  down. 

[MS.  reads '  And  forth  his  wares  hee  drewe.    Hey  doivn."1    Continues  thus  : 

[Then  hee  tooke  up  his  Packe  againe,  and  would  have  gon  his  way, 

Those  Maids  they  cal'd  him  back  againe,  and  pray'd  him  for  to  stay  ; 

And  they  would  show  him  cunny  skins,  a  white  one  and  a  grey.     Hey  downe.~\ 

Hesse  went  tripping  ore  the  green,  with  one  poor  cony-skin,  [Text. 

Because  shee  would  not  have  it  seene,  or  known  where  she  had  bin, 
She  closely  hid  the  same,  until  the  Pedlar  came.     Hey  down. 

The  Maidens  of  Cambrrwrll  brought  forth  their  skins  ; 

But  when  they  came  their  ware  to  sell,  the  Pedler  had  no  pins, 

Nor  laces,  nor  braces,  nor  such  prety  things.     Hey  down. 

The  Maidens  have  truste[d  him]  with  their  Cony-skins  ;  [Torn  of. 

And  he  hath  [promis'd,  sleek  and  prim,  as  one  who  cheats  and  wins ; 

And  tells  them,  he  will  come  again,  and  give  them  pretty  things.   Hey  down.] 

The  Jovial  Pedlar.  51 

[Ere  two  (score)  weekes  were  gon  and  past,  these  maids  began  to  say, 
'  "Where  is  this  Joviall  Pedler  that  vsde  to  come  this  way  ? 

I  doubt  hee  hath  couzen'd  vs,  and  soe  is  run  away.'  Hey  downe,  etc.] 
[Hiatus  valde  dejlendus !  Unique  copy.  This  final  stanza  is  supplied  from 
Harleian  MS.  6057,  fol.  55.  Wit  and  l)rollerg,  1661  edition,  prints  a  version  of 
eight  stanzas,  of  which  the  first  agrees  with  the  unique  broadside ;  next  follows 
our  twelfth  as  "  There  were  two  Joviall  Sisters,  that  in  one  house  did  dwell ;  " 
our  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  follow,  as  third  and  fourth,  "  Kate  pull'd  forth  her 
Cony-skine,"  and  "  Nell  pull'd  forth  her  Cony-skine."  They  are  followed  by 
four  others,  absent  from  our  mutilated  copy,  given  beloio,  square  bracketed : — 

[The  Pedlar  he  took  up  his  Pack,  and  'gan  to  go  his  -way,     [Drollery  version. 
The  Maidens  call'd  him  back  again,  desiring  him  to  stay, 
For  they  would  show  him  Cony-skines,  a  white  one  and  a  gray. 
Hag  down, 

["I  pray  you,  fair  maids,  to  take  no  further  care, 

For  when  that  I  come  back  again  I'le  give  you  ware  for  ware  : 

But  you  have  all  at  this  time  that  now  I  can  well  spare." 

Hag  down. 
[E're  forty  weeks  were  gon  and  past,  the  Maides  began  to  say, 
"  What's  come  of  this  Pedlar,  that  used  here  every  day  ? 
I  fear  he  hath  beguiled  us,  and  run  another  way." 

Hay  down. 
[But  now  these  fair  Maides  their  bodies  began  to  swell, 
And  where  to  find  the  Pedlar,  alack  !  they  could  not  tell, 
Then  they  wish'd  that  all  fair  maides  no  more  Coney-skines  would  sell. 
Hay  down.] 
"We  suspect  that  the  present  broadside  had  been  issued  and  signed  '  London, 
Printed  for  Richard  Harper  in  Smithjield ;  '   he  having  become  possessor  of  the 
curious  woodcut  which  is  on  it,  given  on  our  p.  49.     In  the  same  volume  of  the 
Boxburghe  Collection  (III.  656)  is  another  and  more  modern  ballad  concerning 
"The  Proud  Pedlar,"  who  for  love  of  a  fair  wanton  Lady  proffered  his  whole 
pack  to  bribe  her  to  compliance  with  his  wishes,  and  afterwards  repented  haviug 
paid  so  high  a  price.     He  therefore  went  away  and  stood  outside  of  the  house 
until  her  husband  came  home,  appealed  to  him  for  redress  against  her,  making 
a  false  plea  (cf.  '  The  Jovial  Tinker,'  and  second  tale  in  the  Decameron,  eighth  day), 
thus  frightening  her  with  exposure  he  obtained  restitution  of  his  forfeited  ware. 
(We  are  obliged  to  break  it  asunder ;  part  remainder  is  here,  on  p.  54.) 

[Boxburghe  Collection,  III.  656.] 

C6e  Prouu  petilar* 

SO  merrily  singeth  the  Nightingale,  and  so  merrily  singeth  the  Jay : 
And  so  merrily  singeth  the  proud  Pedlar  as  he  walked  along  the  Highway. 

"  The  Bag  at  my  back  is  worth  twenty  pounds,  in  gold  and  in  good  money  ; 
And  I  would  freely  part  with  it  all,  for  to  kiss  a  night  with  a  Lady." 
The  Lady  look'd  out  of  her  window,  and  hearing  the  Pedlar  sing  ; 
"  Sing  on,  sing  on,  thou  proud  Pedlar,  the  Song  that  thou  didst  begin." 

The  Pedlar  look'd  over  his  left  shoulder,  he  looked  so  neat  and  so  trim  ; 
"  I  never  sung  a  Song  in  all  my  whole  life,  but  I  could  sing  it  again. 

"  The  Bag  at  my  back  is  worth  twenty  pounds,  in  gold  and  in  good  money ; 
And  I  would  freely  part  with  it  all,  for  to  kiss  a  night  with  a  Lady." 

[Continued  on  our  page  54.] 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  444;  Jersey,  I.  314  ;  Euing,  No.  319.] 

C*)e  g>L  Giles's  Brofter. 

g^etoing  Soto  gc  tnajs  chared  in  uuptng  a  C3tten  Cooge, 
toitg  an  account  of  gcbcral  gorrotoful  Ciicumaranccg 
togtcJj  folloto'o  thereupon* 

To  the  Tune  of,  Ladies  of  London.     [See  vol.  vi.  p.  15.] 

Licensed  according  to  Order. 

THere  was  a  wealthy  old  Broker  of  late, 
"Whose  Wife  was  an  absolute  Beauty, 
But  he  so  often  did  kiss  his  maid  Kate, 

He  seldome  did  family  duty  : 
E'ery  night  she  might  tumble  and  toss, 

She'd  nothing  but  Dreams  to  inflame  her, 
So  at  the  length  she  was  desperate  cross, 

But  tell  me  what  Christian  could  blame  her  ?  8 

But  as  it  fell  out,  upon  his  Birth-day, 

Some  two  or  three  Friends  he  invited, 
There  to  take  part  of  a  Green  Goose,  they  say ; 

But  that  civil  wife,  whom  he  slighted, 
She  to  the  market  then  would  not  go, 

He  must  trudge  himself  if  he'd  feast  her, 
Yet  a  good  Green  Goose  this  Spark  did  not  know, 

So  well  as  his  dog  knew  a  Tester.  16 

Yet  he  declar'd  that  he  well  understood 

A  goose,  when  he  came  to  the  Woman, 
For  when  she  show'd  him  one  both  white  and  good, 

He  swore  he'd  be  cheated  by  no  man, 
Saying  to  her,  "  Dame,  what  do  you  mean  ? 

I  would  not  have  this,  if  you'd  give  't  me; 
I'll  have  a  goose  that  is  delicate  green, 

A  wiser  than  you  cannot  cheat  me."  24 

Now  when  she  [did]  see  his  right  ignorant  skill, 

And  being  resolved  to  please  him, 
She  pull'd  out  one  that  was  at  Tamer's  Sill,1 

This  into  his  hand  streight  she  giv's  him. 

1  The  meaning  is  clear  (it  was  "on  the  go;  "  on  the  turn;  more  high  than 
pleasant),  whatever  the  origin.  Well  known  is  the  joke,  possibly  Goldsmith's, 
about  the  grey  peas :   "  Take  them  to  Kew — that's  the  way  to  Turnham  Green  !  " 

The  St.  Giles's  Broker's  Green- Goose.  53 

"  A  green [er]  Goose  there  is  not  in  town, 
It  being  one  of  mine  own  killing ; 
The  first  I  show'd  you  was  but  half  a  Crown, 

For  this  I  must  have  full  three  shilling."  32 

"  Tell  me  why  you  did  not  shew  this  at  first, 

Which  seems  to  be  greenish  all  over ;  " 
With  that  he  straightway  did  down  with  his  Dust,         [W-B. 

Said  he,  "  Of  green  geese  I'm  a  Lover  !  " 
Home  to  his  house  he  strutted  in  state, 

And  there  of  his  Bargain  he  boasted, 
Then  gave  it  into  the  hands  of  young  Kate, 

And  said  it  must  streightways  be  roasted.  40 

But  it  sent  forth  a  strong  dainty  perfume, 

When  being  a  while  at  the  fire, 
Kate  call'd  her  master  streight  into  the  room, 

And  said,  "  Sir,  I  strangely  admire, 
You  should  buy  this,  'tis  not  worth  a  souse, 

No  one  would  be  able  to  eat  it, 
Nay,  it  will  stink  us  all  out  of  the  house, 

I  vow  and  protest  you  are  cheated."  48 

"Prithee,"  said  he,  "let  another  be  bought, 

And  go  thy  self  Kate  I  entreat  thee, 
And  cast  this  same  in  some  secret  vau't, 

And  likewise  take  care  they  don't  cheat  thee." 
Honest  poor  Kate,  the  innocent  maid, 

She  did  as  her  master  advis'd  her, 
And,  as  the  Goose  down  the  vau't  she  convey 'd, 

Some  two  or  three  women  surpriz'd  her.  56 

Then  to  a  Justice  they  haul'd  her  with  speed, 

Concluding  some  child  she  did  smother, 
That  she  might  suffer  for  that  wicked  deed, 

And  call'd  her  a  '  Murderous  Mother.' 
Yet  she  declar'd  it  was  but  a  Goose, 

But  Justice  nor  none  would  believe  her, 
Telling  her,  that  was  an  idle  excuse, 

To  gaol  she  was  sent,  which  did  grieve  her.  64 

For  her  returning  he  waiting  did  stand, 

And  seem'd  to  be  highly  offended, 
At  length  a  letter  came  to  his  Wife's  hand, 

Which  show'd  the  maid  was  apprehended; 
Reading  the  same,  she  to  him  did  run, 

With  railing  his  ears  she  surrounded, 
"  See  what  your  impudent  Gillian  has  done,  [gill-flirt,  Kate. 

An  innocent  Brat  she  has  drounded  !  "  72 

54  The  St.  Giles's  Broker's  Green-Goose. 

Then  to  the  Justice  he  trotted  amain, 

And  told  him  a  sorrowful  ditty  ; 
"When  the  whole  story  he  then  had  made  plain, 

His  case  he  did  presently  pity  ; 
Kate  was  releas'd,  then  home  they  did  go, 

Her  Master  did  lovingly  hand  her, 
Now  ever  since,  those  that  do  him  well  know, 

They  call  him  the  Cunning  Old  Gander.  80 

Printed  for  P.  Broohby,  J.  Deacon,  J.  Blare,  and  J.  Back. 

[In  Black-letter.     Two  woodcuts,  the  first  is  the  woman  in  vol.  vi.  p.  157  ;  second, 
the  man,  on  p.  203,  k.     Date,  between  1682  and  1688.] 

***  We  give  here  the  End  of  the  White-letter  ballad  {interrupted  on  our  p.  51). 

£fte  Ptoua  Pcolar. 


THe  Lady  took  the  Pedlar's  hand,  and  through  the  Hall  him  led, 
Into  a  large  and  spacious  room,  where  cushions  and  pillows  were  laid. 

The  Pedlar  [did  st]ay  with  the  lady  all  night,  until  it  was  break  of  day ;      ['  l ' 
And  then  he  thought  of  his  Tom  Pack,  when  he  had  no  sport  to  play. 

"  Here's  twenty  pounds,"  the  Pedlar  said,  for  to  buy  gloves,  jewels,  and  rings. 
"  So  I  may  have  my  little  Tom  Pack,  for  to  get  me  my  [own]  living." 

The  Lady  took  the  Pedlar's  Pack,  and  set  it  upon  her  knee : 

"  If  you  would  give  me  twice  twenty  pounds,  you  shall  have  no  Pack  of  me." 

"  I  will  make  grass  grow,"  the  Pedlar  said,  "  and  where  there  did  srow  none  : 
And  I  will  stand  at  the  Hall-gate,  till  your  wedded  Lord  comes  home." 

At  night  her  own  wedded  Lord  came  home,  and  [s]eeing  the  Pedlar  there  stand, 
"  What  dost  thou  here,  thou  proud  Pedlar  ?    Now  this  of  thee  1  do  demand." 

"  Yesterday  I  made  a  feast,  for  pedlars  thirty-and-three, 

And  wanted  a  mortar  to  pound  the  spice,  and  borrowed  one  of  your  Lady. 

"  The  mortar  was  your  own  Lady's,  but  the  pestle  was  my  own  ; 

But  now  she  has  got  my  little  Tom  Pack,  and  I  wish  the  truth  was  but  known." 

' '  Come,  give  him  his  Pack.  Thou  proud  Pedlar.  What  makes  you  here  let  him  stand  ? 
Come,  give  him  his  pack  and  let  him  be  gone,  and  this  of  you  I  do  command." 

"Come,  take  thy  Pack,  thou  proud  Pedlar,  come  take  this  Pack  of  thine  ; 
For  never  a  Pedlar,  for  thy  sake,  shall  pound  spice  iu  a  mortar  of  mine." 

"  Now  this  is  well  juggl'd,"  the  Pedlar  said,  "  and  it  is  well  juggled  of  me  : 
For  now  I  have  got  my  little  Tom  Pack,  and  kist  all  night  with  a  Lady. 

"  By  my  wanton  tricks  I  lost  this  Pack,  by  my  wits  I  have  got  it  again  ; 
And  if  I  do  live  these  five  hundred  years,  I  will  never  come  there  again." 

[In  "White -letter,    Slip-song,   with  woodcut  of  a   Young   Highland   Bagpiper. 
No  printer's  name.     Date  probably  after  the  'Forty-five,  cirva  1750.] 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  III.  212.     Probably  unique.] 

il?etoe0  from  S®ovt4mt ; 


%  tnao  Kuaoisfi  an[t>]  unciuil  jFrolick  of  a  Napster  bfaellinp;  there, 
toko  bupjnn;  a  fat  Coult  far  Eighteen  p^Jncc,  tije  jfWare  keinrj;  oeao, 
ano  he  not  knofotng  hofa  to  bring  the  Coult  up  bg  hanto,  killeo  it 
anti  hao  it  bakeo  in  a  -pastie,  anti  inuitco  ntang  of  his  Neighbours 
to  the  tfeast ;  ano  telling  of  tfjetn  bohat  it  baas ;  tije  Conceit  thereof 
ntaoe  tfjem  all  Sick,  as  bg  this  folloiuing  ©ittg  sou  shall  hear. 

The  Tapster  fil'd  the  Cup  up  to  the  brim, 
And  all  to  make  the  little  Coult  to  swim  ; 
Eut  all  that  heares  it,  sayes  that  for  his  gaine, 
He  is  no  better  then  a  Wagg  in  grain. 

The  Tune  is,  A  Health  to  the  best  of  Men.     [Not  =  £o  all  honest  Men.] 

Tl^Here  is  a  Tapster  in  More-lane  that  did  a  Pasty  make, 

JL     All  people  doe  of  him  complaine,  now  for  his  grosse  mistake, 

Hee,  instead  of  Ven'son  fine,  a  good  fat  Coult  did  kill, 

And  put  in  store  of  Clarret  wine,  his  humour  to  fullfill. 

A  peck  of  flour  at  the  least,  with  six  pound  of  butter,         [<  Flower.* 
Hee  made  his  Neighbours  such  a  feast,  and  bid  them  all  to  supper  : 
A  curious  fine  fat  Colt  it  was,  and  handled  daintily : 
The  Tapster  proved  himself  an  asse,  for  this  his  knavery.  16 

Likewise  there  was  a  Baker  too  that  lived  in  that  place, 

And  he  was  a  partaker  too,  I  speak  in  his  disgrace, 

For  he  found  flour  to  make  it,  I  speak  not  in  his  praise,     [« Flower.' 

And  afterwards  did  bake  it,  his  knavery  for  to  raise. 

Likewise  there  was  a  Car-man  too,  and  he  found  butter  for  it ; 
But  when  the  knavery  Neighbors  knew,  they  could  not  but  abhor  it : 
And  then  there  was  a  Cooke,  sir,  at  More-gate  doth  he  dwell, 
And  he  then  under-tooke  sir,  to  make  the  Pasty  well.  32 

Some  say  it  eate  as  mellow  then  as  any  little  chick  : 
But  I  tell  thee,  good-fellow  then,  it  made  the  Neighbours  sick  : 
The  Tapster  had  his  humour,  but  the  neighbours  had  the  worst, 
Yet  I  doe  hear  they  had  good  Beere,  and  dainty  Pasty-crust. 

Then  every  joviall  Blade,  sir,  that  lived  in  that  place; 

They  money  freely  paid,  sir,  they  scorned  to  be  base. 

They  cal'd  for  beere,  likewise  for  ale,  because  the  Coult  should  swim. 

And  of  the  Cup  they  would  not  faile,  but  fil'd  it  to  the  brim.        48 

56         News  from  More- Lane  :  a  Pasty  made  of  a  Colt. 

JEtjc  Sccono  ^art,  to  the  same  Ttjne. 

The  Car-man's  wife  cry'd  out  &  said,  "troath,  'tis  good  meat  indeed!" 
So  likewise  said  the  chamber-maid,  when  she  on  it  did  feed, 
The  Tapster  bid  them  welcome  then,  and  wea-hae  did  cry, 
"  You  are  all  welcome  gentlemen,  your  welcome  hartily." 

The  glover's  wife  was  in  a  heat,  and  did  both  pout  and  mump, 
Because  they  would  not  let  her  eate  the  buttock  and  the  rump. 
As  for  the  merry  weaver's  wife,  I  will  give  her,  her  due 
She  spent  her  coyne  to  end  the  strife  among  that  joviall  crew.       64 

This  Colt  was  not  so  wholsome  though  as  was  a  good  fat  hogg, 
Yet  one  came  in  and  told  the  crew  it  was  a  mangie  dogg  ? 
But  he  that  told  them  was  to  blame,  and  was  but  a  silly  dolt, 
The  tapster  bid  him  "  Peace,  for  shame  !  for  'twas  a  good  fat  colt. 

"  The  colt  he  cost  me  eighteen  pence,"  the  tapster  he  did  say, 
"  I  hope,  good  folks,  ere  you  goe  hence,  you  for  your  meate  will  pay." 
"  Pox  take  you  for  a  roague,"  quoth  one,  another  he  fel'd  oaks,    [* 
Another  said  he  was  vndone  !  'twas  worse  then  harty-choaks.        80 

The  porter  he  did  give  nine  pence,  to  have  it  in  a  pye. 

The  people  ere  they  went  from  thence,  did  feed  most  heartily. 

It  was  the  joviall  baker,  the  knavish  tapster  too, 

The  car-man  was  partaker,  was  not  this  a  jovial  crew  ?  88 

The  potecary  he  was  there,  the  farr[ier],  and  sexton  too  : 
The  tapster  put  them  in  great  fear,  he  made  them  for  to  spue, 
Now  was  not  this  a  knave  in  grain  to  use  his  neighbours  so  ? 
"When  knaves  are  scarce,  he'l  go  for  twain,  good  people,  what  think  you  ? 

The  [potecary]  came  in  at  last,  &  gave  the  people  vomits  :  ['tapster' 
"  I  hope  (quoth  he)  the  worst  is  past,  I've  eased  your  foul  stomacks." 
"  Wea-hea  !  "  cry'd  the  tapster  then,  "  how  doe  you  like  my  sport  ?  " 
The  women  said,  so  did  the  men,  "  The  devill  take  you  for't !  " 

At  Brainford,  as  I  heard  some  say,  a  mangie  dog  was  eate  ; 
This  was  not  halfe  so  bad  as  that,  and  yet  the  fault  was  great ; 
^len  of  good  fashion  then  was  there,  that  went  both  fine  and  brave, 
Now  all  do  say,  that  this  doth  heaie,  "  The  tapster  is  a  Knave !  " 


London,  Printed  for  William  Gammon,  and  to  be  sould  in  Smithfield. 

[Black-letter.     Three  woodcuts.     1st,  man,  vol.  vi.  p.  178  ;  2nd,  reverse  of  man 
on  p.  138,  post ;  3rd,  the  men  smoking,  vi.  p.  490.     Date,  circu  1690.] 

Note. — *  To  fell  oaks— he  ready  to  vomit. 

%*  Although  it  be  about  seventy  years'  later  date,  we  give  a  curious  ditty 
(not  hitherto  reprinted),  enumerating  "The  Cries  of  London."  Among  them  are 
hot  rice-milk,  and  '  Saloop,'  a  decoction  from  dried  orchis-root,  or  from  Sassafras. 


[Roxburgke  Collection,  III.  466  ;  Douce,  I.  7  verso.'] 

C&e  Cries  of  Lon&on, 

Tune,  The  Merry  Christ  Church  Bells.     [See  vol.  v.  p.  523.] 

HARK  !  how  the  Cries  in  every  street  make  lanes  and  allies  ring  : 
With  their  goods  and  ware  both  nice  and  rare, 
All  in  a  pleasant  lofty  strain  ; 
Come  buy  nay  gudgeons  tine  and  new. 
Old  cloaths  to  change  for  earthen  ware. 

Come  taste  and  try  before  you  buy,  here's  dainty  poplin  pears. 
Diddle,  diddle,  diddle  dumplins,  ho  !  with  walnuts  nice  and  brown. 

Let  none  despise  the  merry,  merry  cries,  of  famous  l^on&on-toivn.  13 

Any  old  cloaths,  suits,  or  coats  ?     Come  buy  my  singing-birds. 
Oranges  or  lemons.     Neivcastle  salmon. 

Come  buy  my  ropes  of  onions,  ho  ! 
Come  buy  my  sand,  fine  silver  sand.     Two  bunches  a  penny  turnips,  bo  ! 
I'll  change  you  pins  for  coney-skins.     Maids,  do  you  want  any  milk  below  ? 
Here's  an  express  from  Admiral  HawJce,  that  Admiral  of  renown.        [N.B. 

Let  none  despise  the  merry,  merry  cries,  of  famous  London-£cw«. 

Maids,  have  you  any  kitchen-stuff  ?     Will  you  buy  fine  artichoaks  ? 
Come  buy  my  brooms  to  sweep  your  rooms. 

Will  you  buy  my  white-heart  cabbages,  ho  ! 
Come  buy  "my  nuts,  my  fine  small  nuts,  two  cans  a  penny,  crack  and  try. 
H  ere's  cherries  round,  and  very  sound. 
Maids,  shall  I  sweep  your  chimnies  high  ? 
Tinkle,  tinkle,  tinkle,  goes  the  tinker's  pan,  with  a  merry  chearful  sound. 

Let  none  despise  [the  merry,  merry  cries,  of  famous  London-  town]. 

Here's  fine  herrings,  eight  a  groat.     Hot  codlins,  pies,  and  tarts. 
New  mackerel  I  have  to  sell. 

Come  buy  my  Wellfleet  oysters,  ho  ! 
Come  buy  my  whitings  fine  and  uew. 
Wives,  shall  I  mend  your  husbands'  horns  ? 

I'll  grind  your  knives  to  please  your  wives,  and  very  nicely  cut  your  corns. 
Maids,  have  you  any  hair  to  sell,  either  flaxen,  black,  or  brown  ? 

Let  none  despise  [the  merry,  merry  cries,  of  famous  London-  town]. 

Work  for  a  Cooper,  maids  give  ear,  I'll  hoop  your  tubs  and  pails. 
Come  Nell  and  Hue,  and  buy  my  Blue. 

Maids,  have  you  any  chairs  to  mend  ? 
Here's  hot  spice -gingerbread  of  the  best,  come  taste  and  try  before  you  buy. 
Here's  elder-buds  to  purge  your  bloods.     But  black  your  shoes  is  all  the  cry. 
Here's  hot  rice-milk,  and  barley-broth.    Plumb-pudding  a  groat  a  pound. 

Let  none  despise  [the  merry,  merry  cries],  etc.  65 

Here's  fine  rosemary,  sage,  and  thyme.     Come  buy  my  ground-ivy. 
Here's  fetherfew,  gilliflowers  and  rue. 

Come  buy  my  knotted  mar  jorum,  ho  ! 
Come  buy  my  mint,  my  fine  green  mint.    Here's  fine  lavender  for  your  cloaths. 
Here's  parsley,  and  winter-savory.     And  heart's  ease,  which  all  do  choose. 
Here's  balm  and  hissop,  and  cinquefoil,  all  fine  herbs,  it  is  well  known. 

Let  none  despise  [the  merry,  merry  cries,  of  famous  London-lott'tt]. 

58  The  Cries  of  London,  in  1759. 

Here's  pennyroyal  and  marygolds.     Come  buy  my  nettle-tops. 
Here's  water-cresses  and  scurvy-grass. 

Come  buy  my  sage,  of  virtue,  ho  ! 
Come  buy  my  wormwood  and  mug-wort.    Here's  all  fine  herbs  of  every  sort. 
Here's  southernwood  that's  very  good,  dandelion  and  houseleek. 
Here's  dragon's-tongue  and  wood-sorrel,  with  bear's-foot  and  horehound. 

Let  none  despise  [the  merry,  merry  cries  of  famous  London- town.] 

Here's  green  coleworts  and  brocoli.     Come  buy  my  radishes. 
Here's  fine  savoys,  and  ripe  hautboys. 

Come  buy  my  green  Hastings,  ho  ! 
Come  buy  my  beans,  right  Windsor  beans. 
Two-pence  a  bunch  young  carrots,  ho  ! 

Here's  fine  nosegays,     llipe  strawberries.     "With  ready-pick'd  sallad  also. 
Here's  collyflowers  and  asparagus.     New  prunes  two-pence  a  pound. 

Let  none  despise  [the  merry,  merry  cries,  of  famous  London-tow/;]. 

Here's  cucumbers,  spinnage,  and  French,  beans.     Come  buy  my  nice  sallevy. 
Here's  parsnips  and  fine  leeks  [for  Taffy  with  his  freaks.] 

Come  buy  my  [new]  potatoes,  ho  ! 
Come  buy  my  plumbs,  and  fine  ripe  plumbs. 
A  groat  a  pound  ripe  filberts,  ho  ! 

Here's  corn-poppies  and  mulberries.     Gooseberries  and  currants  also. 
Fine  nectarines,  peaches,  and  apricots.     New  rice  two-pence  a  pound. 

Let  none  despise  [the  merry,  merry  cries,  of  famous  London-town]. 

Buy  a  rabbit,  wild  duck,  or  fat  goose.     Come  buy  a  choice  fat  fowl. 
Plovers,  teal,  or  widgeons,  come  buy  my  pigeons. 

Maids,  do  you  want  any  small-coal  ? 
Come  buy  my  shrimps,  my  tine  new  shrimps,  two  pots  a  penny,  taste  and  try. 
Here's  fine  saloop,  both  hot  and  good,  but  Yorkshire  muffins  is  the  cry. 
Here's  trotters,  calf's  feet,  and  fine  tripes.     Barrel  figs  three-pence  a  pound. 

Let  none  despise  [the  merry,  merry  cries,  of  famous  London-  totun]. 

Here's  new-laid  eggs  for  ten  a  groat.     Come  buy  [my]  water'd  cod. 
Here's  plaice  and  dabs,  lobsters  and  crabs. 

Come  buy  my  maids  and  flounders,  ho  ! 
Come  buy  my  pike,  my  fine  live  pike.     Two-pence  a  hundred  cockles,  ho  ! 
Shads,  eels,  and  sprats.     Lights  for  your  cats  ; 
"With  haddocks,  perch,  and  tench  also. 
Here's  carp  and  tench,  mullets  and  smelts.     Butter  six-pence  a  pound. 

Let  none  despise  the  merry,  merry  cries,  of  famous  London-town. 

Printed  and  sold  at  the  Printing-office  in  Bow- Church-Yard,  London. 

[In  White-letter,  with  two  woodcuts.  The  mention  of  Admiral  Hawke  in  the 
second  stanza  helps  to  determine  the  date  (interesting  solely  in  regard  to  a 
scale  of  prices  and  popularity  of  dainties)  as  circa.  1759,  after  he  had  defeated 
Conflans  in  Quiberon  Bay,  20  November.  Hawke's  victory  off  Finisterre  had 
taken  place  twelve  years  earlier,  14  October,  1747,  when  he  took  ten  men-of- 
war  from  the  French.  Edward,  Lord  Hawke,  born  1713,  died  1781.  Date 
of  our  "  Cries  "  probably  1759  ;  as  we  scarcely  claim  it  to  belong  to  1747.  In 
1662,  "W.  Turner  had  written  "The  Common  Cries  of  London  Town,"  to 
the  tune  of  Watton  Town's  End,  beginning,  "My  Masters  all  attend  you." 
Printed  for  Coles,  Vere,  and  Gilbertson.] 

***  Blankly-lane,  scene  of  the  ensuing  ballads,  was  probably  Blakeney,  near  a 
Land's-eitd  promontory,  at  mouth  of  river  Glaven,  on  the  north  coast  of  Norfolk. 
Thence  two  thieves  escaped  to  sea,  by  Yarmouth.  A  Lament  of  Geo.  Mannington, 
1576,  begins  "  I  wayle  in  woe,  I  plundge  in  payne."    Compare  motto  on  our  p.  59. 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  III.  30 ;  IV.  80  ;  Jersey,  II.  169.] 

Cije  Ztyvtt  toortbp  Butclms  of  tt)e 

I  weep,  I  wail,  and  travel  much  in  pain,  [=travail. 

Now  all  my  youthful  days  are  past,  they'l  never  come  again  ; 
Once  I  was  a  Man,  but  now,  alas !  I  am  none, 
For  all  my  companions  are  from  me  fled  and  gone. 

To    A   PLEASANT   NEW    TUNE. 

Did  you  never  hear  of  worthy  Butchers  three, 
And  how  they  spent  their  days  in  mirth  and  jollity? 
There  was  Kitson,  Wilson,  and  Johnson  (mark  me  what  I  say), 
They  took  300  pounds  worth  of  Goods  upon  a  day. 
"When  as  the  day  of  payment  began  for  to  draw  near, 
Their  money  to  their  Creditors  intended  for  to  bear ; 
And  riding  thorow  Blankly-lane  as  fast  as  they  cou'd  trig,  [a.l.  upon. 
"  Be  merry,  my  hearts,  said  Johnson,  let  us  sing  up  a  jig. 
With  a  hey  down,  down,  with  a  down  derry  dee, 
God  bless  all  true  men  out  of  Thieves'  company."  10 

Biding  then  up  Blanldy-lane  as  fast  as  they  could  hie, 
"  Be  merry,  my  hearts !  "  said  Johnson,  "  I  hear  a  woman  cry." 
"  O  help,  help,  help !  O  help,  or  else  I  dye, 

O  help  me  some  good  Christians,  for  my  torments  they  draw  nigh." 
"  O  hark,  O  hark,"  said  Johnson,  "  I  hear  a  woman  cry, 

Sure  I  came  of  a  woman,  and  shall  I  see  her  dye  ?  " 
"  No,  ride  on,  neighbour  Johnson,'"  now  Kitson  he  did  say, 
"  For  that  is  some  lewd  woman  will  cast  us  all  away. 

If  you  had  but  rid  on  this  way  as  oft  as  we  have  done, 

You  would  have  heard  this  cry  before,  and  now  let  us  be  gone." 

Then  Johnson  whipt  into  the  wood  with  all  his  might  and  main, 
Whereas  he  found  the  woman  with  cords  fast  ty'd  in  twain, 
With  cords  fast  ty'd  in  twain,  and  hand  and  foot  was  bound, 
And  found  her  there  stark-naked,  with  her  hair  pin'd  to  the  ground. 
"  Alas !  "  [to  her]  said  Johnson,  "  what  man  hath  us'd  thee  so  ? 
He  came  not  of  a  woman  that  would  work  a  woman's  woe  : 
Hast  thou  [here]  no  lewd  company  ?  "  now  Johnson  he  did  say, 
"  For  here  we  are  come  to  save  thy  life,  thou  mayst  cast  us  all  away." 
"  No,  I  have  no  lewd  company,"  the  woman  she  did  say, 
"  Three  ruffians  came  riding  by,  and  rob'd  me  by  the  way ;  30 

"  They  took  my  cloaths  from  me,  and  hand  and  foot  me  bound, 
And  left  me  here  in  woful  sort,  with  my  hair  pin'd  to  the  ground." 
So  Johnson  he  whipt  out  his  sword  with  all  his  might  and  main, 
And  presently  the  woman's  cords,  Johnson  he  cut  in  twain, 
A  shirt  out  of  his  Cloak-bag  presently  plucked  he, 
And  put  it  on  the  woman  to  cover  her  secresie. 

60  Three  Worthy  Butchers  of  the  North. 

"  I  have  neither  wife  nor  children,"  Johnson  he  did  say, 

And  thou  shalt  be  the  Lady  of  all,  till  death  take  life  away  :  " 

Johnson  being  a  loving  man,  and  bore  a  careful  mind, 

He  put  his  cloak  about  her  to  keep  her  from  the  wind.  40 

Straight  upon  horse-back  presently  got  he, 

And  they  rode  all  out  of  the  wood,  and  rid  on  gallantly  : 

Eiding  then  up  Blankly -lane  as  fast  as  they  could  trig, 

"  Be  merry  my  hearts,"  said  Johnson,  "  let  us  sing  up  a  Jigg  ; 
With  a  hey  clown  down,  with  a  hey  down  derry  dee, 
What  if  there  were  ten  thieves,  so  we  are  true  men  three  !  " 
Hiding  then  up  Blankly-lane,  as  fast  as  they  could  hye, 

"  Be  merry  my  hearts,"  said  Johnson,  "the  Land's-end  draweth  nigh." 
The  woman  hearing  him  say  so,  presently  by  and  by, 
She  put  her  finger  to  her  ear,  and  gave  a  squeaking  cry.  50 

Ten  thieves  then  [came  from  a  Bush]  with  weapons  drawn  in  hand, 
They  step'd  before  Johnson,  and  quickly  bid  him  stand ; 
"  "What  is  it  so,"  said  Johnson,  "  since  'twill  no  better  be, 
I  vow  that  some  of  you  shall  dye  before  J  killed  be  : 
Stand  fast,  fight  men,  see  that  ye  be  not  idle, 
For  I  vow  his  hand  shall  off  that  lays  hold  on  my  bridle." 
"  Alas  !  [alas  !]  "  said  Kitson,  "  to  fight  no  heart  have  I." 
"  No  more  have  I,"  said  Wilson,  "  in  faith,  I'de  rather  dye  ; 
Here  is  three  hundred  pound  that  we  are  bound  to  pay, 
And  you  shall  have  it  all,  and  let's  scape  with  life  away."         60 

2Efje  £>£cano  Part,  to  the  same  Ttjne. 

"  "What  is  it  so  ?  "  said  Johnson,  "  fight  men,  and  be  free, 
And  stand  but  at  my  back,  keep  the  back-blows  from  me. 
Stand  fast,  [then  and]  fight,  men,  fight  men,  and  be  free, 
And  by  the  help  of  God  we  shall  win  the  Victory." 
Five  of  these  thieves  and  the  woman  they  did  go 
To  Kitson  and  to  Wilson,  and  bound  them  fast  in  woe : 
As  these  10  thieves  play  before  him,  and  play'd  upon  the  yrottnd, 
For  Johnson  had  five  pistols  with  bullets  charged, sound  ; 
With  bullets  charged  sound,  presently  he  let  fly, 
Till  five  of  these  thieves  upon  the  ground  did  lye.  70 

"  Put  up,"  said  the  other  five,  "put  up  without  delay, 
For  if  that  he  gets  charged,  he  will  kill  us  all  this  day." 

"  Fight  on  !  "  said  the  woman,  "fight  on,  I  say  to  ye, 
For  if  you  five  don't  kill  him,  I  vow  your  Priest  to  be." 
So  Johnson  he  whipt  out  his  Sword  with  all  his  might  and  main, 
And  play'd  about  him  gallantly  till  three  more  of  them  were  slain, 

"  Put  up  !  "  said  the  other  two,  "  put  up  without  delay, 
For  if  that  we  continue  fight,  he'l  kill  us  all  this  day." 

"  Fight  on  !  "  said  the  woman,  "  fight  on  I  say  to  ye, 

For  if  you  two  don't  kill  him,  I  vow  your  Priest  to  be."  80 

Three  Worthy  Butchers  of  the  North.  61 

As  these  two  thieves  play'd  before  him,  alas  !  he  did  not  mind, 
For  presently  the  woman  knock'd  him  down  behind  ; 

"  Oh  wretched  Woman  !  "   [cry'd  he],  "  wickedly  hast  thou  done, 
Thou  hast  kill'd  the  bravest  Butcher  that  ever  England  won  : 
For  had  but  my  fellows,  had  they  prov'd  true  to  me  !  " — 

"  They  were  cowards,"  said  the  woman,  "  and  as  cowards  they  shall 
Two  of  these  Thieves  [tho'  wounded,]  and  the  "Woman  they  did  go, 
To  Kitson  and  to  Wilson  where  they  lay  bound  in  woe ; 
A  club  [she  took]  into  her  hand,  as  she  got  all  the  gains, 
Went  to  Kitson  and  to  Wilson  and  dasht  out  both  their  brains. 

How  this  murder  was  discovered,  list  and  you  shall  hear ; 
It  was  by  a  silly  Shepherd,  hid  in  the  hedge  for  fear, 
Seeing  this  woful  murder  straight  [he]  sent  forth  hue  and  cry, 
[To]  a  gentleman  and  his  man  as  they  came  riding  by. 
Ay,  but  do  what  e're  they  could,  taken  [Thieves]  could  not  be, 
For  they  got  ship  at  Yarmouth,  and  so  went  over  sea  ; 
This  is  the  trick  of  thieves  when  they  have  murder  done, 
When  they  have  committed  roguery,  full  fast  away  they  run. 
God  bless  our  royal  King  and  Queen,  and  send  them  long  to  reign, 
In  health,  wealth  and  prosperity,  true  Justice  to  maintain, 
God  bless  all  true  men  that  travel  by  Land  or  Sea, 
And  keep  all  true  men  out  of  Thieves'  company  !  102 

Paul  Burges. 

Printed  for  P.  Broolcsby,  in  West- Smithfi 'eld. 

[In  Black-letter.  The  first  Roxb.  copy  is  undivided  into  stanzas.  Same  woodcut 
in  both  copies,  represents  black-vizarded  thieves  huddled  together,  with 
up-raised  cudgels.  One  man  lies  on  the  ground ;  another  is  on  his  knees, 
asking  mercy.     Date,  circa  1672-79  ;  certainly  before  1695,  when  Mary  died.] 

***  There  is  another  version  in  this  Roxburgke  Collection,  one  that  appears 
to  have  circulated  extensively,  six  exemplars  being  known  to  us  (but  of  Paul 
Burges's  Roxb.  two  alone,  beside  the  Earl  Crawford's,  formerly  Jersey  Collection). 
Roxb.  Coll.,  III.  496,  on  p.  62,  is  the  briefer  and  more  rapid  in  narration  (forty- 
four  lines  instead  of  one  hundred  and  two  of  the  other),  giving  the  important 
addition  of  the  woman  being  captured  and  punished.  "We  doubt  not  that  it 
was  genuine  history,  truthfully  told.  For  the  fate  of  the  poltroons,  Wilson 
and  Gibson  alias  Kitson,  no  elegy  is  needed  ;  they  may  have  been  merry,  but  the 
sole  worthy  was  Johnson.  Paul  Burges  wrote  his  version  the  earlier,  and  a 
rival  popularizer  borrowed  (and  spoilt)  his  line  of  "Keep  all  true  men  out  of 
Thieves  Company.'"     '  Gallows  and  knock  were  too  powerful  on  the  Highway.' 

Next  ballad  has  two  woodcuts.  1st,  originally  represented  the  murder  of  the 
Rev.  Wm.  Storre  by  Francis  Cartwright,  who  fled  beyond  seas,  in  1613.  (It  is 
copied  in  Mason  Jackson's  Pictorial  Press,  p.  24.)  2nd,  woman  hanging  in  chains, 
given  later  in  our  '  Execution  Group.'' 


[Eoxburghe  Coll.,  III.  496;  Pepys,   II.   176;    Euing,  235;  Huth,   II.   100; 

Douce,  III.  91  verso,  92  vo.] 

a  jfteto  16aUati  of  tfje  Cfjree  a^crrp  lButcfiers, 

Stub  ten  f^fjrJd-foag  jIHen,  Ijofo  ttjrce  -ButctKts  faent  to  pag  jfibe 
plunbfcb  $3ounbs  aiuag,  anb  tjcarimj  a  Olloman  crgtnrj  m  ttje 
TOootj,  foent  to  Hxelt'cue  tjer,  anb  foas  tljere  set  upon  bo  tjjese  ten 
f^ujtj-toag  mm ;  anb  ijota  onlrj  stout  Johnson  foucjfjt  iriittj  ttjem 
all,  toijo  ftflleb  ct'rjtjt  of  ttje  ten ;  anb  at  last  toas  killcb  60  ttje 
fl2Eoman  [intjotn]  tje  iucnt  to  saoc  in  ttje  flJHoob. 


I)LL  tell  you  of  a  Story  of  lovely  Butchers  three, 
There's  Wilson,  Gibson,  Johnson,  mark  -well  what  I  shall  say, 
For  they  took  five  hundred  pounds,  sir,  to  pay  it  all  away, 
For  they  took  five  hundred  pounds,  sir,  to  pay  it  all  away.  4 

As  they  rid  on  the  road,  and  as  fast  as  they  could  trig, 
"  Strike  up  your  hearts,"  says  Johnson,  "  we'll  have  a  merry  jigg  :  " 
With  a  high  ding,  ding,  with  a  ho  ding  ding,  with  a  high  ding,  JJing  dee, 
And  God  bless  all  good  people  from  evil  company. . 

As  they  rid  on  the  road,  sir,  as  fast  as  they  could  hye, 
"  Strike  up  your  hearts,"  says  Johnson,  "■  for  I  hear  a  "Woman  cry  ;  " 
"With  that  he  steps  into  the  wood,  and  looks  himself  all  round, 
And  there  he  spy'd  a  "Woman  with  her  hair  bound  to  the  ground. 

"  0  "Woman  !  0  "Woman  !  "  qd.  Johnson,  "  hast  thou  no  evil  Company  ;  " 

"  0  no,  0  no,"  says  the  Woman,  "  and  alas,  how  can  that  be? 

For  there  came  ten  swaggering  Blades  by,  and  thus  abused  me, 

For  there  came  ten  swaggering  Blades  by,  and  thus  abused  me."  16 

Johnson  being  of  a  valiant  heart,  he  bore  a  valiant  mind, 

He  wrapt  his  cloak  about  her  for  to  keep  her  from  the  wind, 

With  a  high  ding  ding,  with  a  ho  ding  ding,  ivith  [a]  high  ding,  Ding  dee, 

And  God  bless  all  good  pc- pie  from  evil  Company. 

"  Strike  up  your  hearts,"  says  Johnson,  "for  it's  dark  all  in  the  sky," 
She  put  her  finger  in  her  ear,  and  gave  a  screeking  cry  ; 

"With  that  there  came  ten  swaggering  Blades  with  their  weapons  ready  drawn, 
And  they  boldly  came  to  Johnson,  and  bolder  bid  him  stand. 

"  I  will  not  fight,"  says  Wilson,  "  for  I  had  rather  die  ;  " 
"  Or  I  to  fight,"  says  Gibson,  "  for  I  had  rather  fly." 
"  Come  on,  come  on,"  says  Johnson,  "  and  fight  a  man  so  free, 
Or  stand  you  still  behind  my  back,  and  I'll  win  the  victory." 

Then  Johnson's  pistols  they  flew  off  till  five  of  them  was  slain, 

And  then  he  drew  his  hanger  out  with  all  his  might  and  main, 

And  plaid  it  about  so  manfully,  'till  three  more  he  had  slain, 

And  plaid  it  [about  so  manfully,  'till  three  more  he  had  slain'].  32 

"  Come  on,  come  on,"  says  the  other  two,  "  and  let  us  make  away, 

For  if  we  do  not  [quit  a]  hold,  our  lives  he  takes  away,"  ['A.  him  to  't.' 

"  0  no,  0  no,"  quoth  the  Woman,  "  and  alas,  how  can  that  be, 

For  if  you  do  not  hold  him  to't  then  hanged  you  shall  be." 

A  Second  Ballad  of  the  Three  Merry  Butchers.  03 

Johnson  fighting  these  two  thieves  [m]ore,  the  woman  he  did  not  mind, 
And  fighting  these  two  thieves  before,  she  knockt  him  down  behind, 
"  0  Woman,  0  Woman  !  "  qnoth  Johnson,  "alas,  what  have  you  done  ? 
You  have  kdl'd  the  bravest  Butcher  that  ever  England  won." 

Just  as  she  had  killed  him  there  came  one  riding  by, 

And  saw  the  deed  that  she  had  done,  and  seized  her  presently ; 

She  was  condemn' d  for  to  be  hang'd  in  iron  chains  so  strong, 

At  the  place  where  she  did  Johnson  that  great  and  mighty  wrong.  44 

London,  Printed  for  /.  Bissel,  and  sold  by  /.  Foster,  at  the  sign  of  the  Golden 
Ball  in  Pye- Corner.    [Pepys  and  Euing,  for  /.  Bissel,  at  Bible  and  Harp.'] 

[White-letter.     Two  woodcuts,  as  described  on  p.  61.     Date,  about  1685-97]. 


C6e  German  princess,  bcc  jFarctocll 

"  Mary,  I  believed  thee  true,  and  I  was  blest  in  thus  believing, 
But  now  I  mourn  that  e'er  I  knew  a  girl  so  fair,  and  so  deceiving. 

Fare  thee  well !  "  — Moore  of  it. 

HE  woman  who  helped  so  wickedly  to  ensure  the  robbery  and 
murder  of  "  The  Three  Worthy  Butchers  of  the  North  "  richly 
deserved  her  fate,  and  was  hanged  in  chains  where  the  crime  had 
been  committed.  JSTo  one  need  lament  her.  It  is  very  different 
with  Mary  Carleton,  known  as  "The  German  Princess,"  who  met 
her  doom  after  a  life  of  intrigue  and  adventure,  not  worse  than 
ladies  of  that  class  and  disposition  generally  led  of  old  ;  profitable  or 
pleasant  only  while  their  youth  and  beauty  were  attractive. 

Canterbury  long  enjoyed  the  reputation  of  having  given  birth  to 
Madam  Aphra  Behn  (baptised  at  Wye  Church,  10th  July,  1640, 
the  daughter  of  John  and  Amy  Johnson  of  Wye,  four  miles  distant 
from  Molash),  whose  poems,  novels,  and  risky  comedies  have  made 
her  famous  in  dramatic  annals.  Mary  Carleton  nee  Mary  Moders, 
born  at  Canterbury  on  22  January,  1642  (sms.  per  col.,  on  her  birth- 
day, 167|),  was  also  connected  with  the  stage  ;  she  played  her  own 
part,  '  Moders,''  the  heroine,  in  a  comedy  of  "  The  German  Princess," 
at  the  Duke's  Theatre  in  Dorset  Gardens,  15  April,  1664.  (  Vide  p.  66.) 

J.  O.  Halliwell  believed  it  might  be  the  same  play  that  was  [for  T.  Roberts] 
printed  with  a  changed  title  of  "  The  Witty  Combat;  or,  The  Female  Victor," 
a  tragi-comedy  by  T.P.,  4to.  1663.  It  was  'acted  by  Persons  of  Quality'  in 
Whitsun-week,  with  great  applause.  "  The  plot  of  it  is  founded  on  the  story 
of  Mary  Carleton,  '  the  German  Princess,'  whose  life  was  formed  into  a  novel  and 
printed  in  8vo.,  1673."     (T.P.  was  Thomas  Porter,  author  of  '  The  Villain.') 

The  tune  of  The  German  Princess's  Farewell  was  used  later  for  two  ballads 
(on  pp.  106,  107),  and  re-named  from  the  former  Long  days  of  absence:  thus 
cited  for  "  Long  days  of  sadness  we  your  scorns  endured  "  (The  Maid's  Complaint.) 

As  showing  the  career  of  a  beautiful  but  unscrupulous  Adventuress  we  include 
her  in  this  '  Group  of  Trades  and  Sports.'  Another  ballad  on  her  is  on  p.  230, 
beginning,  "  Will  you  hear  a  German  Princess,  how  she  trick'd  an  EngZish-ma.a?  " 


[Hoxburghe  Collection,  III.  35.     Apparently  unique.] 

^ome  Luck,  ^>ome  2xUit, 

Being  a  Sonnet  upon  the  mertjj  life  anb  ttntimclg  ocatfj  of  fftistress 
Mary  Carlton,  commanlg  calletJ 

Cl)e  German  princess* 

To  a  new  Tune,  called  the  German  Princess'   adieu. 

FArewel,  German  Princess,  the  Fates  bid  adieu  ! 
Whose  fall  is  as  strange  as  her  story  is  true, 
Her  pedigree  she  from  a  Fidler  does  bring, 
And  Fidlers  do  commonly  end  in  a  string  : 
How  many  mad  pranks  has  she  plaid  on  the  earth, 
Which  equally  moves  us  to  pitty  and  mirth, 
But  now  for  a  gamhall  at  Christmas  the  fool 
Must  show  us  a  trick  on  a  Three-legged  Stool.        [=galiows.     g 

The  first  of  her  tricks  was  a  freak  into  France, 

To  learn  the  French  language,  to  sing  and  to  dance, 

And  who  but  a  Taylor  should  lye  in  the  lurch, 

To  cut  out  her  work  and  to  lead  her  to  Church  : 

He  ply'd  her  too  with  Gold,  hut  when  all  was  prepar'd 

To  measure  the  Princess  about  with  his  yard, 

She  bob'd  off  the  Taylor,  and  made  him  a  Goose  ; 

But  for  all  her  mad  pranks  she  must  dye  in  a  Noose.  16 

The  German  Princess  :  Mary  Carleton.  65 

Next  after  to  Holland  she  steered  her  course, 

And  there  she  abused  a  Jeweller  worse, 

For  when  he  so  many  rich  jewels  had  brought, 

Seal'd  up  in  a  box,  she  another  had  wrought ; 

And  thus  he  was  chous'd  by  the  wit  of  the  Girl 

With  pebbles  for  diamonds  and  Glasses  for  pearl  ; 

"Who  after  his  gilding  most  sadly  bemoans,  [«e» 

He  quite  was  undone  for  the  loss  of  his  stones. 

The  next  that  she  shew'd  was  an  JEnglish-m&n's  jest,    [°n  Kin9- 

And  though  there  was  wit  in't,  'twas  none  of  the  best; 

Then  who  but  the  '  Princess  ! '  and  happy  were  they 

That  could  but  obtaiu  this,  so  welcome  a  prey;  ['pray' 

As  eagerly  she  at  the  Cullies  did  catch, 

But  when  she  was  married  she  met  with  her  match ;    ICarieton. 

For  at  last  an  Atturney  did  fall  in  her  way, 

"Who  gave  her  his  Bond  and  had  nothing  to  pay. 

A  Brick-maker  then  as  a  suitor  did  go,  [one  Billing. 

"Whose  news  was  as  strange  as  the  news  from  Soho ;        [jy.  Bene. 

For  when  he  came  up  to  his  tenement  door, 

He  found  there  was  one  in  possession  before. 

To  furnish  this  room  he['d]  sold  all  that  he  had, 

And  now  not  to  enter  it  made  him  stark  mad ; 

But  she  had  the  money,  and  kept  him  in  awe, 

By  bidding  him  '  make  up  his  Brick  without  straw.'  40 

And  now  the  young  gallant  that  next  was  trappan'd 

Was  a  kind  of  a  Drugster,  as  I  understand ;  [?K.  Tho.  Day? 

He  thought  her  so  rich  that  the  prodigal  fop 

To  gain  her  sold  all  that  he  had  in  the  shop  ; 

But  when  to  this  prize  he  began  to  draw  near 

He  found  he  had  bought  his  Commoditie  dear, 

His  fore-head  did  bud,  and  such  pains  he  indur'd 

As  would  not  by  balsoms  or  plaisters  be  cur'd.  48 

A  Limner,  at  length,  who  had  heard  of  her  fame, 

"Would  needs  draw  her  Picture  and  give  it  a  frame, 

"With  couler  and  varnish  she  cheated  the  Elf, 

And  prov'd  that  she  painted  as  well  as  himself : 

He  made  her  a  Face  and  a  robe  like  a  Queen, 

And  swore  'twas  as  like  her  as  ever  was  seen  : 

But  when  at  the  tavern  she  left  him  in  pawn, 

He  swore  for  a  Princess  a  Beggar  he'd  drawn.  56 

A  thousand  such  pranks  she  did  daily  invent, 
And  yet  with  her  money  was  never  content, 
But  spent  it  apace  :   for  the  proverb,  you  know, 
Says  '  wealth  that  comes  lightly  as  lightly  does  go.' 

VOL.    VII.  F 

06  The  German  Princess  :  Mary  Carleton. 

At  Masques  and  at  Revels,  by  day  and  by  nigbt, 

Witb  Toryes  and  gallants  sbe  took  ber  delight, 

She  fancy'd,  alass  !  it  would  ne're  be  day, 

And  so  never  thought  of  a  reckoning  to  pay.  64 

But  what  was  long  look'd  for  is  now  come  at  last, 

And  the  sentence  of  death  on  the  Princess  is  past, 

Nor  could  she  be  try'd  by  her  peers,  for,  no  doubt, 

There  was  not  her  peer  the  whole  nation  throughout. 

But  if  any  more  of  the  gang  should  be  found, 

They  are  born  to  be  hang'd,  they  shall  never  be  droun'd ; 

"When  people  must  cheat  to  encourage  their  pride, 

It  is  a  Dutch  trick,  which  we  cannot  abide.  72 

London :  Printed  for  Phillip  Brooksly,  near  the  Hospital-gate,  in 

West-  Smith-field. 

[In  Black-letter,  with  two  woodcuts,  one  is  a  lunette  of  a  German  girl,  copied 
on  p.  64 ;  the  other,  a  man  and  woman  standing  hand  in  hand  under  a  tree. 
Date  of  ballad,  Christmas,  1672,  mentioned  in  the  seventh  line:  shortly  before 
Wary  Carleton's  execution  at  Tyburn,  on  her  birthday,  22  January,  167s-.] 

*£*  Samuel  Pepys.  in  his  immortal  Mary,  loth  April,  1664  (ten  months  after 
J/tf?v/had  been  tried  for  bigamy  at  the  Old  Bailey,  4  June,  1663,  defending  herself 
bravely,  so  that  she  was  '  acquitted  by  publique  acclamation  '),  tells  how  be  went 
with  his  wife  by  coach  to  the  Duke's  Theatre,  in  Dorset  Gardens,  "and  there 
saw  '  The  German  Princess '  acted  by  the  woman  herself;  but  never  was  any 
thing  [that  had  been]  so  well  done  in  earnest,  worse  performed  in  jest  upon  the 
stage  ;  and  indeed  the  whole  play,  abating  the  drollery  of  him  that  acts  the 
husband,  is  very  simple,  unless  here  and  there  a  witty  sparkle  or  two."  (Diary 
and  Correspondence  of  Samuel  Pepys,  ii.  458,  Mynors  Bright's  1876  edition.) 
Compare  an  earlier  passage  (Ibid.  p.  235),  June  7,  1663,  "  where  my  Lady 
Batten  [wife  of  Sir  William]  inveighed  mightily  against  the  German  Princesse, 
and  I  as  high  in  the  defence  of  her  wit  and  spirit,  and  glad  that  she  is  cleared  at 
the  sessions  "  After  her  return  to  London  from  Jamaica  (whither  she  had  been 
transported  in  February,  1671),  having  resumed  her  evil  courses,  her  final 
offence  was  a  robbery  of  plate  from  Chancery  Lane  :  they  sentenced  to  death  this 
beautiful  but  reckless  woman,  once  a  '  Canterbury  Belle,'  "  witty  and  handsome, 
'  Dutch  built,  a  stout  Fregat,'  "  in  December,  1672. 

N.B. — Mary's  reputed  husbands  were,  1st,  Thomas  Stedman,  of  Canterbury, 
shoemaker,  12  May,  circa  1654  (two  children,  by  him,  died  young) ;  2nd,  Thomas 
Day,  of  Dover,  surgeon ;  3rd,  John  Carleton,  London,  21  April,  1663.  After  her 
second  acquittal  for  Bigamy  she  spoke  this  Epilogue  to  T.P.'s  A  Witty  Combat : 

Moders. — "  I've  past  one  Tryal ;  but  it  is  my  fear  [cf.  p.  63. 

I  shall  receive  a  rigid  Sentence  here  ; 

You  think  me  a  bold  cheat ;  put  case  'twere  so,      [c/.  A.B.'a  Spec. 

Which  of  you  are  not  ?    Now  you'd  swear,  I  know,     Amant.,  22. 

But  do  not,  least  that  you  deserve  to  be 

Worse  censur'd  than  you  yet  can  censure  me. 

The  World's  a  cheat,  and  we  that  move  in  it 

In  our  degrees  do  exercise  our  Wit : 
And  better  'tis  to  get  a  glorious  Name, 
However  got,  than  live  by  common  fame." — Finis. 


George  of  ©rforti. 

"  Some  did  say  he  would  escape,  some  at  his  fall  did  glory ; 
But  these  were  clownes  and  fickle  friends,  and  none  that  loved  Georgie. 

"  Might  friends  have  satisfide  the  Law,  then  Georgie  would  find  many ; 
Yet  bravely  did  he  plead  for  life,  if  mercy  might  be  any.       Heigh  ho,  etc. 

"  But  when  this  doughty  Carle  was  cast,  he  was  full  sad  and  sorry ; 
Yet  boldly  did  he  take  his  death,  so  patiently  dyde  Georgie.^ 

— A  Lamentable  Bitty  upon  George  Stoole. 


HETHER  we  account  as  Trade  or  Sport  the  pranks  played 
professionally  by  Mary  Carleton,  alias  Stedman,  alias  "  The  German 
Princess,"  born  Moders,  daughter  of  a  Canterburian  choirister  and 
'  fiddler,'  she  had  an  unchallenged  right  to  be  represented  in  this 
"  Group  of  Ballads,"  under  either  qualification.  As  a  companion 
picture,  literally  a  pendant,  she  ought  to  find  a  male  Gallant, 
worthy  by  life  and  death  to  hang  beside  her.  Such  a  one  surely 
is  "  George  of  Oxford  "  (a  song  not  hitherto  reprinted),  here  given. 
Wordsworth  declared  concerning  Robin  Hood  that  "  Scotland  has 
a  thief  as  good :  she  has,  she  has  the  bold  Rob  Roy,"  and  perhaps 
this  praise  stimulated  Walter  Scott  to  make  the  brave  Gregarach 
the  hero  of  his  own  noble  romance.  But  Scotland  shows  a  fantastic 
and  inexplicable  modesty,  a  disparagement  of  her  own  resources  and 
native  manufacture,  insomuch,  that  she  actually  appropriates  to 
herself  several  of  our  English  freebooters  ;  not  to  mention  the  lifting 
and  resetting  of  such  portable  property  as  she  can  lay  her  hands  on, 
in  the  way  of  ballads,  cattle,  spleuchan,  bag  of  guineas,  or  author- 
ship of  popular  poems :  all  being  grist  that  goes  to  her  mill,  which 
has  a  big  dam  to  it.  And  she  has  even  tried  to  naturalize  '  Georgy ' 
as  '  Geordie.'  Burns  contributed  the  version  printed  in  Johnson's 
Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792  (given  complete  on  our  p.  72):  the 
most  authentic  of  the  Scotch  'Geordie'  ballads.  George  R.  Kinloch 
in  his  Ancient  Scottish  Ballads,  1827,  declared  that  he  was  "  inclined 
to  assign  the  sixteenth  century  as  the  date  of  this  production,"  viz. 

' '  There  was  a  battle  in  the  North,  and  Nobles  there  was  many, 

And  they  hae  kill'd  Sir  Charlie  Bag,  and  they  laid  the  wyte  [blame]  on  Geordie." 

Kinloch  thought  that  it  "  originated  in  the  factions  of  the  Huntley 
family,  during  the  reign  of  Queen  Mary;  and  the  following  passage 
in  Buchanan  [History  of  Scotland^  relates  to  a  transaction  which 
probably  gave  rise  to  the  ballad."  But,  credat  Judceus  Apella  !  we 
resemble  Master  Dumbleton  who  required  better  security  than  the 
endorsement  of  Bardolph  to  Falstaff's  bond.  We  like  not  the 
security  of  Buchan  or  of  Buchanan.  We  cannot  accept  Kinloch's 
garbled  version  in  print  (on  his  pp.  192-194),  with  its  burden,  "  My 
Geordie,  0,  my  Geordie  0,  Oh,  the  love  I  hear  to  Geordie  ;  The  very 
stars  in  the  firmament  [!!!],  hear  tokens  I  We  Geordie  !  "    Kinloch's 

68  Five  *  traditional'  Scotch  versions  of  Geordie.' 

interleaved  copy  held  this  MS.  Note  : — "  Mr.  Motherwell  informs 

me  that  he  has  met  with  two  copies  of  this  ballad.     One  begius, 

'  Geordie  Luckly  is  my  name,  and  mony  a  ane  does  ken  me,  0, 
Many  an  ill  deed  I  hae  done,  but  death,  has  now  o'ertane  me,  0.' 

[Better  to  have  styled  him  Geordie  Unlucky. ~]    The  other  begins, 

'  The  weather  it  is  clear,  and  the  wind  blaws  schill, 
And  yonder  a  boy  rins  bonnie  0, 
And  he's  awa'  to  the  gates  o'  Hye, 
Wi'  a  letter  to  Geordie' s  lady,  0.'  " 

Kinloch's  own  MS.,  seen  by  ns,  differs  much  from  his  printed  version  : 

"We  read,  third  line,  "  And  they  were  brought  before  the  King,"  transformed 
in  print  to  "And  monie  ane  got  broken  heads"  !  !  !  His  fifth  stanza  of  print 
was  in  MS.  "  0  up  bespoke  a  Baron  bold,  '  Such  lovers  true  should  not  parted 
be,'  "  but  this  is  ill  turned  into  type  as  "  Then  up  bespak  a  baron  bold,  And  0 
but  he  spak  bonnie  !  "  It  may  have  been,  possibly,  that  the  ballad,  or  a  ballad, 
referred  to  George  Gordon,  Earl  of  Huntley,  who,  having  been  commissioned  to 
apprehend  a  notorious  Reiver,  'John  Muderach,' had  returned  without  having 
fulfilled  his  charge,  and  was  imprisoned  as  a  punishment ;  some  desiring  his 
banishment  to  France,  others  trying  to  compass  his  death. 

In  Peter  Buchan's  Ballads  of  the  North  of  Scotland,  i.  133  (see 

our  p.  73)  he  furnishes  a  version  called  "  Gight's  Lady,"  beginning, 

First  I  was  Lady  o'  Black  Riggs,  and  then  into  Kincragie, 
Now  I  am  the  Lady  o'  Gight,  and  my  love  he's  ca'd  Geordie. 

[Forty-One  mortal  stanzas  in  all :  not  immortal.] 

Joseph  Ritson  in  his  Northumberland  Garland,  Newcastle,  1793 
(from  Boxburghe  Coll.,  I.  186,  or  a  duplicate),  gave  "  A  lamentable 
new  Ditty,  made  on  the  death  of  a  worthy  Gentleman,  named  Geoege 
Stoole,  dwelling  sometime  on  Gate-side  Moore,  and  sometime  at 
Newcastle  in  Northumberland, ;  with  his  penitent  end."  '  To  a  delicate 
Scottish  tune.'  Date  guessed  circa  1610-12.  There  is  certainly  a 
connection  between  this  sorry  '  Ditty '  (reprinted  in  Roxburghe 
Ballads,  i.  576)  and  our  "  George  of  Oxford."  They  probably  refer 
to  the  same  man,  by  name  Skelton,  alias  Stowell ;  the  references  to 
Newcastle  and  Lady  Gray's  intercession  for  him  become  intelligible  ; 
London-Bridge  and  Oxford  remain  dubious  localizations.    It  is  here  : 

lOme,  you  lusty  Northerne  lads,  that  are  so  blith  and  bonny, 

Prepare  your  hearts  to  be  full  sad,  to  heare  the  end  of  Georgey. 
Heigh-ho,  heigh-ho,  my  bonny  Love  ;  Heigh-ho,  Heigh-ho,  my  Honny  ! 
Heigh-ho,  heigh-ho,  my  oivne  deare  Love,  and  God  be  ivith  my  Georgie. 

"When  Georgie  to  his  Triall  came,  a  thousand  hearts  were  sorry, 

A  thousand  Lasses  wept  full  sore,  and  all  for  love  of  Georgy.     Heigh-ho,  etc. 

[Three  stanzas  intervene:  given  on  p.  67-] 

As  Georgie  went  up  to  the  Gate,  he  tooke  his  leave  of  many  ; 

He  tooke  his  leave  of  his  Lard's  wife,  whom  he  lov'd  best  of  any.    [Laird's. 

With  thousand  sighs,  and  heavy  lookes,  away  from  thence  he  parted, 
Where  he  so  often  blith  had  beene,  though  now  so  heavy  hearted. 

He  writ  a  letter  with  his  owne  hand,  he  thought  he  writ  it  bravely ; 
He  sent  it  to  Neiv-Castle  Towne,  to  his  beloved  Lady. 


George  Stoole  of  Gates ide- Moor,  1612.  69 

Wherein  he  did  at  large  bewaile  the  occasion  of  his  folly ; 
Bequeathing  life  unto  the  Law,  his  soule  to  Heaven  holy. 

"  [My]>  Lady,  leave  to  weepe  for  me,  let  not  ray  ending  grieve  ye  :      ['  Why.' 
Prove  constant  to  the  [yen]  you  love,  for  I  cannot  releeve  yee.  ['  ney.' 

"  Out  upon  thee,  Withriugtm,  and  fie  upon  thee,  Phoenix  .'  [Fen wick. 

Thou  hast  put  down  the  doughty  one  that  stole  the  sheep  from  Anix.* 

"  And  fie  on  all  such  cruell  carles,  whose  crueltie's  so  fickle, 
To  cast  away  a  Gentle  man  in  hatred  for  so  little. 

"  I  would  I  were  on  yonder  hill,  where  I  have  beene  full  merrv  ; 
My  sword  and  buckler  by  my  side,  to  fight  till  I  be  weary.     Heigh  ho,  etc. 

"  They  well  should  know  that  tooke  me  first,  tho'  hopes  be  now  forsaken, 
Had  I  but  freedume,  armes,  and  health,  1'de  dye  ere  I'de  be  taken. 

"  But  Law  condemns  me  to  my  grave,  they  have  rae  in  their  power  ; 
There's  none  but  Christ  that  can  me  save,  at  this  my  dying  houre." 

He  call'd  his  dearest  love  to  him,  when  as  his  heart  was  sorry, 

And  speaking  thus  with  manly  heart,  "  Deare  sweeting,  pray  for  Georgie  !  " 

He  gave  to  her  a  piece  of  gold,  and  bade  her  giv't  her  ba[i]rnes,    [  =  babes. 
And  oft  he  kist  her  rosie  lips,  and  laid  him  into  her  armes. 

And  coming  to  the  place  of  death,  he  never  changed  colour, 

'J  he  more  they  thought  he  would  look  pale,  the  more  his  veines  were  fuller. 

And  with  a  cheereful  countenance  (being  at  that  time  entreated 
For  to  conf esse  his  former  life) ,  these  words  he  straight  repeated : 

"  I  never  stole  no  Oxe  nor  Cow,  nor  never  murdered  any  : 
But  fifty  Horse  I  did  receive  of  a  Merchant's  man  of  Gory.        [i.e.  Gowrie. 

"  For  which  I  am  condemn'd  to  dye,  though  guiltlesse  I  stand  dying, 
Deare  gracious  God,  ray  soul  receive,  for  now  my  life  is  flying."  Heiyh-ho,  etc. 

The  Man  of  death  a  part  did  act,  which  grieves  mee  tell  the  story  ; 
God  comfort  all  [who]  are  comfortlesse,  and  di[e]d  so  well  as  Georgie, 

Heigh-ho,  heigh-ho,  my  bonny  love,  Heigh-ho,  heigh-ho,  my  bonny  ; 

Heigh-ho,  heigh-ho,  mine  own  true  love,  ISweet  Christ  receive  my  Georgie. 


*  Withrington  (cf.  vi.  742,  'Chevy  Chase')  must  be  Sir  Henry,  or  Roger  W.  ; 
1  Phoenix  '  is  Sir  John  Femvick,  who  was  favoured  by  Lord  William  '  Howard  of 
the  Marches.'  Ney  is  merely  a  misprint  for  yen=  one.  Anix  is  Alnwick.  Robert 
Motherwell  erred  in  declaring  the  George  Stoole  ballad  "  evidently  imitated  from 
the  Scottish  song."     It  was  antecedent.     He  knew  not  our  '  George  of  Oxford.' 


The  "  Merchant's-man  of  Goicry"  becomes  in  our  Roxburghe  Ballad,  p.  72, 
some  horse-purchaser  for  Bohemia  (not  improbably  the  Palsgrave  Frederick, 
husband  of  James  I.'s  daughter,  the  admired  Princess  Elizabeth),  Avhich  helps  to 
mark  the  early  date,  circa  1612  (they  were  affianced  27  December,  1612,  and 
married  on  14  Feb.,  161f).  The  boast  about  having  "never  stolen  horse  or 
mare  in  my  life "  resembles  George  Stoole's  "  1  never  stole  no  Oxe,"  etc. 
(Compare  our  vol.  vi.  p.  596,  on  lady  Gray,  and  Hughie  Graham.)  Geordie  by 
dances  on  the  green,  with  fair  ladies  whom  he  had  marked  down  for  plunder, 
anticipated  Claude  Duval  (Bagford  Ballads,  p.  13,  1876)  ;  but  Duval  gave  back 
their  jewels  to  each  lovely  partner  of  his  Coranto.  In  all  such  matters  la  Grande 
Nation  sets  au  example  of  truer  chivalry  than  la  nation  des  Boutiquiers. 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  IV.  53  ;  Pepys,  II.  150  ;  Jersey,  I.  86  ;  Euth,  I.  150.] 

<&f)t  ILife  aim  SDeatS  of 

George  of  ^DjrforD* 

To  a  pleasant  New  Tune,  called,  Poor  Georgxj. 

AS  I  went  over  Zo?i(ton-~Bridge,  all  in  a  misty  morning, 
There  did  I  see  one  weep  and  mourn,  lamenting  for  her  Georgy  : 
"  Sis  time  it  is  past ;  Sis  life  it  will  not  last, 

Alack,  and  alas  !  there  is  no  Remedy  ! 
Which  makes  the  heart  icithin  me  ready  to  burst  in  three, 
To  think  on  the  death  of  poor  Georgy." 

"  George  of  Oxford  is  my  name,  and  few  there's  but  have  known  me, 
Many  a  mad  prank  have  I  play'd,  but  now  they've  overthrown  me. 
My  time  it  is  past  [my  life  it  will  not  last]"  etc. 

Oh  !  then  bespake  the  Lady  Gray,  "  I'le  haste  me  in  the  morning, 
And  to  the  Judge  I'le  make  my  way,  to  save  the  life  of  Georgy. 
Sis  time  it  is  past  !  Sis  life  else  it  may  cost ; 

Alack,  and  alas  !  is  there  no  Remedy  ? 
It  makes  the  heart  within  me  ready  to  burst  in  three, 

To  think  on  the  death  of  poor  Georgy.  33 

George  of  Oxford.  71 

"Go,  saddle  me  my  milk-white  Steed,  go  saddle  me  my  bonny, 
That  I  may  to  New-Castle  speed,  to  save  the  life  of  Georgy. 
His  time  it  is  past :  \_His  life  it  will  not  last'],"  etc. 

But  when  she  came  the  Judge  before,  full  low  her  knee  she  bended, 
For  Georgy1  s  life  she  did  implore,  that  she  might  be  befriended. 
"  Sis  time  may  be  past ;  his  life  else  it  may  cost, 

Alack,  and  alas  !  is  there  no  Remedy  f 
It  makes  the  heart  within  me  ready  to  burst  in  three, 
To  think  on  the  death  of  poor  Georgy  !  " 

"  Oh  rise,  oh  rise,  fair  Lady  Gray,  your  suit  cannot  be  granted  ; 
Content  your  self,  as  well  you  may,  for  Georgy  must  be  hanged. 
His  time  it  is  past,  \_His  life  it  cannot  last],'"  etc. 

She  wept,  she  wail'd,  she  [w]rung  her  hands,  and  ceased  not  her 

mourning  ;  [''/•  vi-  596. 

She  offer'd  Gold,  she  offer'd  Lands,  to  save  the  life  of  Georgy. 
"  His  time  it  is  past  !  [his  life  it  cannot  last],"  etc.  77 


d§£0ttje'0  Confession. 

Have  travell'd  through  the  Land,  and  met  with  many  a  man,  Sir, 
But  Knight  or  Lord  I  bid  him  stand;  he  durst  not  make  an  answer. 
But  my  thread  it  is  spun,  My  glass  is  almost  run, 

Alack  and  alas  !  there  is  no  remedy  ! 
Which  makes  my  heart  within  me  ready  to  burst  in  three, 
To  die  like  a  Dog  ! "  (says  poor  Georgy).  88 

"  The  Brittain  bold  that  durst  deny  his  money  for  to  tender, 
Though  he  were  stout  as  valiant  Guy,  1  forced  him  to  surrender. 
But  now  my  thread  is  spun  \_My  glass  is  almost  run],  etc. 

"  But  when  the  money  I  had  got,  and  made  him  cry  peccavi, 
To  bear  his  charge,  and  pay  his  shot,  a  Mark  or  Noble  gave  I. 
But  my  thread  it  is  spun  [My  glass  is  almost  run],  etc. 

"  The  Ladies  when  they  had  me  seen,  would  ne'r  have  been  affrighted, 
To  take  a  dance  upon  the  Green  with  Georgy  they  delighted. 
But  now  my  thread  is  spun  [My  glass  is  almost  run],  etc. 

"  When  I  had  ended  this  our  wake,  and  fairly  them  bespoken, 

Their  rings  and  Jewells  would  I  take  to  keep  them  for  a  Token. 

But  now  my  thread  is  spun  [My  glass  is  almost  run],"  etc. 

"  The  Hue  and  Cry  "  for  George  is  set,  a  proper  handsome  fellow, 
With  Diamond-eyes  as  black  as  jet,  and  Locks  like  Gold  so  yellow. 
His  time  it  is  past  [his  life  it  cannot  last],"  etc. 

Long  it  was,  with  all  their  art,  e're  they  could  apprehend  him, 
But  at  the  last  his  valiant  heart  no  longer  could  defend  him. 
His  time  it  was  past  [his  life  it  could  not  last],  etc. 

72     '  Georgy  '  of  Oxford  and  Burns's  '  Geordie  '  of  Scotland. 

"  I  ne'r  stole  Horse  nor  Mare  in  my  life,  nor  Cloven-foot  or  any, 
But  once,  Sir,  of  the  King's  white  steeds,  and  I  sold  them  to  Bohemia?'* 
Sis  time  it  was  past  \_his  life  it  could  not  last],  etc.  isee  p.  69. 

Georgy  he  went  up  the  hill,  and  after  [him]  followed  many  ; 
Georgy  was  hanged  in  silken  string,  the  like  was  never  any. 
His  time  it  ivas  past,  his  life  will  not  last, 

Alack,  and  alas  !  there  is  no  remedy, 
[  Which  makes  the  heart  ivithin  me  ready  to  burst  in  three, 

To  think  on  the  death  of  poor  Georgy].  176 

Printed  for  P.  Brooksby,  in  West-Smilhfield. 

[In  Black-letter,  -with  the  two  woodcuts,  as  on  p.  70.  Issued  by  Philip  Brooksby, 
between  1671  and  1692  ;  the  Pepys-exemplar  is  marked  Brooksby  "  at  the 
sign  of  the  Golden  Ball,  near  the  Bear-Tavern  in  Bye-corner."  Probably  this 
was  reprinted  from  an  earlier  and  lost  broadside,  temp.  Jacobi  I.,  circa  1612.] 

***  Here  follows  the  earliest  printed  Scotch  version  of  "  Geordie,"  and  the  best. 
'The  Country  Lass  [Boxb.  Bds.,  i.  165)  tune  is  now  used  for  Sally  in  our  Alley. 

(The  Scots  Musical  Museum  version,  iv.  357,  1792.) 
Tune  of,  The  Country  Lass  [='  Altho'  I  be  a  Country  Lass  ']. 

THERE  was  a  battle  in  the  North,  and  nobles  there  we[re]  many, 
And  they  hae  kill'd  Sir  Charlie  Hay,  and  they  laid  the  wyte  on  Geordie. 

0,  he  has  written  a  lang  letter,  he  sent  it  to  his  Lady ; 
"  Ye  maun  cum  up  to  Enbrugh  town,  to  see  what  word's  o'  Geordie."    [Edinbro'. 

When  first  she  look'd  the  letter  on,  she  was  baith  red  and  rosy  ; 

But  she  had  na  read  a  word  but  twa,  till  she  wallow' t  like  a  Lily.         [Faded. 

"  Gar  get  to  me  my  gude  grey  steed,  my  menzie  a'  gae  wi'  me  ;  [followers. 

For  I  shall  neither  eat  nor  drink,  till  Enbrugh  town  shall  see  me." 

And  she  has  mounted  her  gude  grey  steed,  her  menzies  a'  gaed  wi'  her  ; 
And  she  did  neither  eat  nor  drink,  till  Enbrugh  town  did  see  her. 

And  first  appear'd  the  fatal  Block,  and  syne  the  Aix  to  head  him  ; 
And  Geordie  cumin  down  the  stair,  and  bands  o'  aim  upon  him. 

But  tho'  he  was  chain'd  in  fetters  Strang,  o'  airn  and  steel  sae  heavy, 
There  was  na  ane  in  a'  the  Court,  sae  braw  a  man  as  Geordie. 

0  she's  down  on  her  bended  knee,  I  wat  she's  pale  and  weary ; 
"  0  pardon,  pardon,  noble  king,  and  gie  me  back  my  Dearie  ! 

"  I  hae  borne  seven  sons  to  my  Geordie  dear,  the  seventh  ne'er  saw  his  daddie  ; 
0  pardon,  pardon,  noble  King  !  Pity  a  wael'ul  Lady  !  " 

"  Gar  bid  the  Headin'-man  mak'  haste,"  our  King  reply'd,  fu'  lordly. 
"  O  noble  King,  tak  a'  that's  mine,  but  gie  me  back  my  Geordie  !  " 

The  Gordons  cam,  and  the  Gordons  ran,  and  they  were  stark  and  steady ; 
And  ae  the  word  amang  them  a'  was,  "  Gordons,  keep  you  ready  !  " 

An  aged  Lord  at  the  King's  right  hand,  says,  "  Noble  King,  but  hear  me ; 
Gar  her  tell  down  five  thousand  pound,  and  gie  her  back  her  Dearie."     [Scots. 

George  Gordon  of  Gight,  and  Big  net's  Lady.  73 

Some  gae  her  marks,  some  gae  her  crowns,  some  gae  her  dollars  many  ; 

And  she's  tell'd  down  five  thousand  pound,  and  she's  gotten  again  her  Dearie. 

She  blinkit  blythe  in  her  Geordie1  s  face,  says,  "  Dear  I've  bought  thee,  Geordie ; 
But  there  sud  been  bluidy  bouks  on  the  green,  or  I  had  tint  my  laddie." 

He  claspit  her  by  the  middle  sma\  and  he  kist  her  lips  sae  rosy ;  [<?.  interpolated  ? 
' '  The  fairest  flower  o'  woman-kind,  is  my  sweet  bonnie  Lady  !  " 

— *-5J£3-e< — 

The  music  of  Geordie  is  given  in  an  Appendix  to  Kinloch's  Ancient  Scottish 
Ballads,  1827.  W.  £.  Aytoun  thought  the  song  bore  no  "  mark  of  having  been 
altered  by  [Burns],  with  the  exception,  perhaps,  of  the  concluding  stanza"  (Ballads 
of  Scotland,  ii.  48,  1857).     Bouks  =  corpses  ;  tint=\ost;  pound  Scots  =  shilling. 

Peter  Buchan  (Anc.  Bds.  and  Songs  of  the  North  of  Scotland,  1828  ;  Keprint 
1875,  i.  299)  refuses  to  endorse  Allan  Cunningham's  acceptance  of  Kinloch's 
explanation,  as  to  George  Gordon,  Earl  of  Huntley,  his  offence,  neglect  to 
apprehend  Muderach,  chief  of  the  clan  or  family  of  the  McKanalds  (Buchanan's 
Hist.  Scotland,  1799,  vol.  ii.  p.  222).  Buchan  declares,  "the  genuine  old 
ballad  was  composed  upon  quite  another  incident,  and  recounts  an  affair 
which  actually  took  place  in  the  reign  or  rather  minority  of  King  James  VI. 
[of  Scotland  =  James  I.  of  England].  Sir  George  Gordon  of  Gight  [an  ancestor 
of  Lord  Byron],  had  become  too  intimate  with  the  Laird  of  Bignet's  lady,  for 
which  the  former  was  imprisoned,  and  likely  to  lose  his  life ;  but  for  the  timely 
interference  of  Lady  Anne,  his  lawful  spouse,  who  came  to  Edinburgh  to  plead 
his  cause,  which  she  did  with  success,— gained  his  life,  and  was  rewarded  with 
the  loss  of  her  own,  by  the  hand  of  her  ungrateful  husband."  Of  the  utter 
rubbish  foisted  on  Buchan,  let  the  conclusion  suffice  in  proof.  Gight's  lady  had 
been  covetted  by  Lord  Montague,  but  she  thus  in  dulcet  tones  rebukes  his  boast 
of  '•  I  wish  that  Gight  had  wanted  the  head,  I  might  enjoy'd  his  lady  :  " — 

Out  it  speaks  the  lady  hersell,  "  Ve  need  ne'er  wish  my  body  ; 
0  ill  befa'  your  wizen' d  snout  !  Would  ye  compare  wi  Geordie  ?  " 

She  mounts  her  steed,  sitting  behind  Geordie,  and  proclaims  her  love  for  him, 
and  avouches  all  she  has  done  for  him,  but  he  boasts  that  he  loves  his  paramour 
more  than  he  loves  his  wife,  Lady  Anne  : 

He  turn'd  him  right  and  round  about,  and  high,  high  looked  Geordie ; 
"  A  finger  o'  Bignet's  lady's  hand  is  worth  a'  your  fair  body. 

"  My  lands  may  a'  be  masterless,  my  babes  may  want  their  mother ; 
But  I've  made  a  vow,  will  keep  it  true,  I'll  be  bound  by  no  other." 

These  words  they  caus'd  a  sharp  dispute,  and  proud  and  fierce  grew  Geordie  I 
A  sharp  dagger  he  pulled  out,  and  pierc'd  the  heart  o's  lady. 

The  lady's  dead,  and  Gight  he's  fled,  and  left  his  lands  behind  him ; 
Altho'  they  searched  south  and  north,  there  were  nane  ihere  cou'd  find  him. 

Now  a'  that  liv'd  into  Black-Biggs,  and  likewise  in  Eincraigie, 
For  seven  years  were  clad  in  black,  to  mourn  for  Gight's  own  lady. 

No,  no,  no.  We  refuse  to  accept  this  George  Gordon  the  wife-slayer  (even  if, 
following  another  tradition,  he  drowned  her)  as  the  veritable  "  Geordie "  of 
Burns's  contribution  to  Johnson's  Museum,  or  the  "  Georgy"  of  our  ballad  and 
of  Oxford.  George  Stoole,  of  Newcastle,  1612,  is  the  preferable  representative  ; 
"  and  there  the  matter  remains  "  : 

J'n'en  dis  pas  davantage,  Mironton,  Mironton,  Mirontaine, 
J'n'en  dis  pas  duvanlage,  car  en  viola,  z-assez. 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  III.  230;   Bagford.  II.  114;  Pepys,  III.  31;  Rawlinson, 
12G  ;  Jersey,  I.  229  ;  Douce,  II.  258  ;  Wood's,  401,  fol.  97 ;  and  402,  55.] 

S&oom  for  a  Sobtal  8ftnfttt:  ©lb  Brass  to  fHento. 

Here  is  a  Tinker  full  of  mettle, 

The  which  can  mend  pot,  pan,  or  kettle ; 

For  stopping  of  holes  is  his  delight, 

His  work  goes  forward  day  and  night. 

If  there  be  any  women  brave 

Whose  Coldrons  need  of  mending  have, 

Send  for  this  Tinker,  nere  deny  him, 

He'l  do  your  work  well  if  you  try  him. 

A  proof  of  him  I'le  forthwith  show, 

'Cause  you  his  workmanship  may  know. 

The  Tune  is,  Behold  the  man  [with  a  glass  in  his  hand]. 

[The  Jovial  Tinker  :  Cf.  Merry  Drollery,  1661 :    '  There  was  a  Lady  in  this  land.'] 

IT  was  a  Lady  of  the  North  she  lov'd  a  Gentleman, 
And  knew  not  well  what  course  to  take,  to  use  him  now  and  than. 
Wherefore  she  writ  a  Letter,  and  seal'd  it  with  her  hand, 
And  bid  him  be  a  Tinker,  to  mend  both  pot  and  pan. 

With  a  hey  ho,  hey,  derry  derry  down  ;  tvith  hey  trey,  down  down  derry. 

And  when  the  merry  Gentleman  the  Letter  he  did  read, 

He  got  a  Budget  on  his  back,  and  Apron  with  all  speed, 

His  pretty  shears  and  pincers,  so  well  they  did  agree, 

With  a  long  pike-staff  upon  his  back,  came  tripping  o're  the  Lee. 

With  a  hey  [ho,  hey,  derry  derry  down],  etc.  20 

Room  for  a  Jovial  Tinker.  75 

When  he  came  to  the  Ladye's  house,  he  knocked  at  the  gate, 
Then  answered  this  Lady  gay,  ' '  Who  knocketh  there  so  late  ?  " 
"  'Tis  I,  Madam,"  the  Tinker  said,  "  I  work  for  gold  and  fee  : 

If  you  have  any  broken  pots  or  pans,  come  bring  them  all  to  me." 
With  a  hey  \Jio,  hey,  derry  derry  down],  etc. 

"  I  am  the  bravest  Tinker  that  lives  beneath  the  sun, 
If  you  have  any  work  to  do,  you  shall  have  it  well  done  ; 
I  have  brasse  within  my  Budget,  and  punching  under  my  Apron, 
I'm  come  unto  your  Ladyship,  and  mean  to  mend  your  Coldron." 

With  hey  [Jw,  hey,  derry  derry  down],  etc.  40 

"  I  prethee,"  said  the  Lady  gay,  "  bring  now  thy  budget  in, 
I  have  store  of  work  for  thee  to  do,  if  thou  wilt  once  begin." 
Now  when  the  Tinker  he  came  in,  that  did  the  budget  bear, 

"  God  bless,"  quoth  he,  "your  Ladyship!  God  save  you  Madam  fair." 
With  hey  [ho,  hey,  derry  derry  down],  etc. 

But  when  the  Lady  knew  his  face,  she  then  began  to  wink,  [a. I.  blink. 

"  Hast[e],  lusty  Butler  !  "  then  quoth  she,  "  to  fetch  the  man  some  drink. 
Give  him  such  meat  as  we  do  eat,  and  drink  as  we  do  use, 
It  is  not  for  a  Tinker's  Trade  good  liquor  to  refuse." 

With  hey  ho,  hey  derry  derry  down  ;  with  key  tre,  down  down  derry.  GO 

But  when  that  he  had  eat  and  drunk,  the  truth  of  all  is  so, 
The  Lady  took  him  by  the  sleeve,  her  work  to  him  to  show, 
"  Set  up  thy  tools,  Tinker,"  quoth  she,  "  and  see  there  be  none  lost, 
And  mend  my  Kettle  handsomely,  what  ere  it  doth  me  cost."   With  hey,  etc. 

"  Your  work,  Madam,  shall  be  well  done,  if  you  will  pay  me  for't ; 
For  every  nayl  that  I  do  drive  you  shall  give  me  a  mark. 
If  I  do  not  drive  [like  a  Tinker  true]  I'le  have  nothing  for  my  pain, 
And  what  I  do  receive  of  you  shall  be  return'd  again."     With  hey,  etc.        80 

At  last  being  come  into  the  Room  where  he  the  work  should  do, 

The  Lady  lay  down  [all  her  pride]  and  so  did  the  Tinker  too  : 

Although  the  Tinker  knockt  amain,  the  Lady  was  not  offended, 

But  before  that  she  [rose  up  again],  her  Coldron  was  well  mended.    With,  etc. 

But  when  his  work  was  at  an  end,  which  he  did  in  the  dark, 
She  put  her  hand  into  her  purse,  and  gave  him  twenty  mark. 
"  Here's  mon[e]y  for  thy  work,"  said  she,  "and  I  thank  thee  for  thy  pain, 
And  when  my  Coldron  mending  lacks  I'le  send  for  thee  again."  With  hey,  etc. 

The  Tinker  he  was  well  content  for  that  which  he  had  done, 

So  took  his  budget  on  his  back,  and  quickly  he  was  gone. 

Then  the  Lady  to  her  husband  went,  "  O  my  dear  Lord,"  quoth  she, 

I  have  set  the  bravest  Tinker  at  work  that  ever  you  did  see."     With  hey,  etc. 

"  No  fault  at  all  this  Tinker  hath,  but  he  takes  dear  for  his  work, 
That  little  time  that  he  wrought  here  it  cost  me  twenty  mark." 

"  If  you  had  bin  so  wise,"  quoth  he,  "  for  to  have  held  your  own, 
Before  you  set  him  to  his  work  the  price  you  might  have  known."    With,  etc. 

"  Pray  hold  your  peace,  my  Lord,"  quoth  she.  "  and  think  it  not  to[o]  dear. 
If  you  cou'd  doo't  so  well  'twould  save  you  forty  pound  a  year." 
With  that  the  Lord  most  lovingly,  to  make  all  things  amends, 
He  kindly  kist  his  Lady  gay,  and  so  they  both  were  friends.     With  hey,  etc. 

You  merry  Tinkers,  every  one,  that  hear  this  new-made  Sonnet, 

When  as  you  do  a  Lady's  work  be  sure  you  think  upon  it : 

Drive  home  your  nayls  to  the  very  head,  and  do  your  work  profoundly, 

And  then  no  doubt  your  Mistresses  will  pay  you  for  it  soundly.    With  hey,  etc. 

Printed  for  F.  Coles,  T.  Vere,  and  W.  Gilbertson. 
[Black-letter.  Two  cuts,  pp.  74,  and  76.   Far.  led.,  cf.  p.  77.    Date,  circa  165C] 


Room  for  a  J  octal  Tinker. 

[Second  cut  of  '  The  Jovial  Tinker,'  mentioned  on  p.  75  ;  and  p.  77.] 

Note. — That  this  woodcut  originally  represented  the  disguised  '  Gentleman ' 
whom  the  fair  '  Lady  of  the  North'  had  caused  to  personate  a  "  Jovial  Tinker," 
and  that  the  other  figure  was  intended  for  her  grave  unsuspicious  husband,  of 
advanced  age  and  solemn  dignity,  is  demonstrable.  The  antique  style  of  the 
woodcut  indicates  an  earlier  date  than  16.56  to  the  ballad  reprinted  on  p.  74. 
We  find  it  entered  to  John  Trundle,  22  March,  1616,  '  the  ballad  called  the  Jolly 
Tinker.'  The  cut  was  used  by  Francis  Coules,  also  by  Henry  Gosson.  It  became 
mutilated  (as  in  Roxb.  Bds.,  iii.  492,  printed  by  W.  Gilbertsou),  sacrificing  one 
figure  and  preserving  the  Tinker  alone.  The  adventurous  lover  shows  something 
of  his  courtly  grace,  despite  the  hood  which  muffles  his  sharply-cut  features.  The 
version  in  Merry  Drollery,  i.  134,  1661,  differs  in  diction  from  the  broadside, 
though  little  in  the  story.  The  Lady,  with  clever  duplicity,  keeps  up  the  noise 
by  hammering  on  the  kettle,  while  the  pretended  tinker  solicits  her  favour :  — 

And  whilst  he  play'd  and  made  her  sport,  their  craft  the  more  to  hide, 

She  with  his  hammer  stroke  full  hard  against  the  Cauldron  side  ; 

Which  made  them  all  to  think  and  say,  '  The  Tinker  wrought  apace  ! ' — 

And  so  be  sure  he  did  indeed,  but  in  another  place. 

Later,  as  a  Scotch  song,  entitled  "  Clout  the  Cauldron,"  it  was  printed  by  Allan 
Ramsay  in  his  Tea- Table  Miscellany,  vol.  i.  1724,  and  became  popular  in  the 
North.    Tradition  assigned  the  adventure  to  a  Gordon,  of  the  Kcnmure  family 
(Cromek's  Reliques  of  Burns,  p.  199)  ;  but  the  lover  is  repulsed  by  the  Lady: — 
"  '  Sir,  ye  appear  a  cunning  man,  but  this  fine  plot  you'll  fail  in, 
For  there  is  neither  pot  nor  pan  of  mine  you'll  drive  a  nail  in. 
Then  bind  your  budget  on  your  back,  and  nails  up  in  your  apron, 
For  I've  a  tinker  under  tack  [bond],  that's  us'd  to  Clout  my  Cauldron.' 

Fa  adrie  didle  didle,  etc.'''' 

[Text  of  p.  75  reads  '  the  nay  I  to  the  head  ;  '  '  on  the  bed ;  '  and  'from  the  bed.'~\ 

The  Old  Pudding-pye  Woman.  77 

*#*  Whatever  may  be  found  suitable  hereafter,  there  is  no  need  to  allot  much 
space  at  present  to  two  such  silly  ballads,  full  of  senseless  iteration  to  fill  up  their 
respective  broadsides,  as  1st.  "  The  Old  Pudding-pye  Woman  set  forth  in  her 
colours,  etc.,"  to  a  rare  new  Tune  [its  own],  much  in  use,  or.  There  ims  an  Old 
Wife.  (In  the  Pepys  Collection,  I.  444,  a  tune  is  mentioned  of  Pudding- P ye 
Doll.)  2nd.  "The  Ragman,"  by  John  Lookes,  who  seems  to  have  been  hard- 
bound for  ideas,  dealing  much  in  repetitions,  but  fortunately  was  not  encouraged 
to  write  other  ballads,  or  if  he  did  so  all  have  perished  that  bore  his  name.  His 
may  be  '  The  Old  Pudding-pye  Woman,'  which  connects  itself  with  our  later- 
dated  "Cries  of  London,"  p.  57,  by  the  following  motto  (Roxb.  Coll.,  II.  388; 
Pepys,  III.  121 ;  Euing,  No.  26L ;  Jersey,  I.  301)  :— 

Of  all  the  rare  and  various  London  cryes 
There's  none  that  doth  excell  '  Hot  Pudding-pyes  !  ' 
Each  one  that  hears  it,  being  bit  with  hunger, 
Would  wish  himself  to  be  a  Pudding-monger  : 

For  many  likes  such  victuals  for  the  nones, 

Because  in  Pudding-Pyes  there  is  no  bones. 

Of  the  twelve  stanzas,  we  give  the  first,  third  to  fifth,  eighth,  tenth,  to  end 
(delaying  second,  sixth,  seventh,  and  ninth).     We  suspect  John  Lookes  wrote  it. 

ftfje  ©ID  PutiDtncf=pse  OToman. 

THere  was  an  Old  Wife  and  she  sold  Pudding  pyes, 
She  went  to  the  Mill,  and  the  dust  blew  into  her  eyes.  [i.e.  Flour-mill. 
She  has  Hot  Puddings  and  Cold  Puddings  to  sell, 
Where  ever  she  goes  you  may  follow  her  by  the  smell  .   .  . 

She  calls  up  her  Neighbors,  for  to  go  and  fuddle  a  Pot, 

Because  to  go  fasting,  O  she  likes  it  not  ! 

Her  Bub  she  doth  tipple,  and  then  having  cleared  her  eyes      [Bub  =  drink. 

She  goes  to  the  Oven,  to  fetch  Pudding-pyes. 

"  O  Baker!  "  quoth  she,  "  I  prethy  do  not  me  cozen  ; 
I  am  an  Old  wife,  tell  fifteen  to  the  dozen  ; 
For  by  that  means  my  profit  doth  fairly  rise. 
Or  else  I  must  never  more  cry  Pudding-pyes." 

At  every  Corner,  and  in  every  street, 
This  Pudding-pye- Woman  be  sure  you  oft  shall  meet; 
With  Basket  on  head,  and  hand  on  her  Butock,  she  cryes, 
"  Come  here,  all  away,  that  will  buy  Hot  Pudding-pyes  !  " 

In  Winter  [when  it  snows]  you  may  behold  her  dragled  Tail, 

And  lagging  [slow]  she  goes  along  just  like  a  Snail ; 

All  sprinkled  with  mire,  a  handful  about  her  thighs  ; 

You  that  have  good  stomacks,  come  buy  her  Pudding-pyes  !  .  .  . 

Her  Puddings  are  fat,  in  Summer  they  use  to  fry 
With  heat  of  the  Sun,  or  else  she  hath  told  a  Lye  : 
But  what  she  puts  in  them,  I  swear  I  cannot  devize, 
Then  buy,  and  you'l  try,  how  you  like  her  Pudding-pyes. 

She  hath  a  young  Daughter,  that  takes  after  her  Mother, 
And  will  be  as  like  her  as  one  Pea  's  like  another. 
If  any  young  man  have  a  mind  to  such  a  rare  prize, 
He  shall  have  her  Daughter  and  all  her  Pudding-pyes. 

And  thus  you  may  see  how  I  this  Woman  describe  ; 
'Tis  nothing  to  me,  I'm  sure  she'l  give  me  no  bribe  ; 
But  that  I  am  content,  since  that  I  have  told  no  lyes, 
Then  farewell  to  those  that  do  cry  Hot  Pudding-Pyes. 

London,  Printed  for  F.  Coles,  T.  Vere,  J.  Wright,  and  J.  Clarke. 

[Black-letter,  two  woodcuts.     Date,  1674-1681.] 


The  Ragman  (:  himself  one  of  ragged  Looks). 

Of  the  Ragman's  fourteen  ten-line  stanzas,  four  may  suffice.  The  tunes  named 
for  it  are,  Upon  the  highest  Mountains,  and  [Must]  the  absence  of  my  Mistresse. 

The  second  tune-name  marks  the  first  line  of  a  ditty  already  reprinted  in 
these  Foxburghe  Ballads,  vol.  ii.  p.  317  (Roxb.  Coll.,  I.  320),  beginning,  "Must 
the  absence  of  my  Mistresse."  The  title  is  "A  Pair  of  Turtle-Doves;  or,  A 
dainty  new  Scotch  Dialogue."     Our  Ragman  has  a  motto-verse  or  Argument: — 

[Roxburghe  Coll.,  III.  182.  apparently  unique.] 

&§t  Eacf-JHau , 


A  company  that  fell  at  oddes  one  day 

Which  of  them  should  carry  the  Cunny-skins  away. 

They  strove  who  should  have  it.  but  none  of  them  [were]  wise, 

For  the  Usurer  and  the  Divell  carry  away  the  prize. 

THere  was  a  Ragman  and  a  mad-man,  as  they  travelled  on  a  d:iy, 
There  came  a  Begger  and  a  Bagman,  and  stole  the  cunny-skins  away. 
Quoth  the  Mad-man  to  the  Rag-man,  "  I  have  it  in  my  braine, 
To  make  the  Begger  and  the  Bagman  bring  the  Cunny-skins  again."  10 

Then  with  a  cup  of  fuddle,  the  Mad-man  he  did  take 

The  Bagman  on  the  noddle,  till  his  braines  began  to  ake, 

Till  the  Begger  he  did  stagger,  he  had  drunke  himselfe  so  blinde  : 

Thus  they  pay'd  them,  till  they  made  them  leave  the  Cunny-skins  behind.       20 

[There  successively  appear  a  lock-smith  and  a  drinker ;  a  black-smith  and  a 
tinker  ;  a  cobler  and  a  broom-man  ;  a  car-man  and  a  plow-man  ;  then,  in  the 
second  part,  a  joiner  and  a  rope-maker  ;  a  brewer  and  a  baker  ;  a  glover  and  a 
weaver  ;  a  fidler  and  a  pedlar  :  a  broker  and  a  taylor  ;  a  hangman  and  a  jaylor  ; 
lastly,  a  royster  and  a  reveller  ;  with  the  ultimate  victors,  ending  thus  : — ] 

It  was  a  Royster  and  a  Revell.  as  they  did  meet  one  day, 

Came  an  Usurer  and  the  Devill,  stole  the  Cunny-skins  away. 

Quoth  the  Royster  to  the  Revell,  "  We'lle  take  them  on  the  braine : 

We'lle  make  the  Usurer  and  the  Devill  bring  the  Cunny-skins  again." 

The  Royster  with  his  rapier  at  the  Devill  he  did  runne, 

And  at  him  he  did  vapour,  but  could  not  make  him  shunne. 

Whilst  the  Revell  he  did  cavell.  crying  out  "  We  have  foul  play  !  " 

For  the  Usurer  and  the  Devill  beares  the  Cunny-skins  away.  140 


London,  Printed  for  Francis  Grove  on  Snow-hill.     John  Lookes. 
[Black-letter.     Five  woodcuts.     Date,  circd  1620-1655,  probably  1652.] 
This  girl  belongs  to  p.  85  ;  the  man  to  our  Ragman  ballad.     Another  cut,  ii.  373. 


-^SSW     s,P 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  354;  Pepys,  IV.  244;  Jersey,  II.  65;  Douce,  II.  152.] 

Ct)e  fl^ap^Dap  Country  flprtl) ; 

%ty  gotmg  llaos  ano  Masses'  3Ini10crnt  liUcreatiotn 
Mf)kf)  i0  to  bt  pxtfti  before  Courrtp  pomp  anti  pagttmr* 

To  an  Excellent  New  Tune.      Licensed  according  to  Order. 

"  TOan,  to  the  Maypole  away  let's  run, 
The  time  is  swift  and  will  be  gone, 
There  go  the  Lasses  away  to  the  Green, 
Where  their  beauties  may  be  seen  : 

Nan,  [D^\oll,  Kate  and  Moll, 
Brave  Lasses  have  Lads  to  attend  'urn, 

Hodge,  Nick,  Tom,  Dick, 
Brave  dancers,  who  can  amend  'um  ? 

[Text,  "Noll." 

*%*  We  begin  this  Half-Group  of  Sports  with  a  lively  ditty,  of  which  the 
tune  is  given  in  Popular  Music,  p.  302  ;  also  in  Pills  to  p.  Melancholy,  i.  262, 
accompanying  D'Urfey's  song,  "  The  Clock  had  struck,  faith,  I  cannottell  what." 

Line  48. — Dance-tunes  used  for  Ballads,  The  New  Boree;  Boree  la  Base; 
Boree,  or,  Sweet  William  ;  are  all  in  Henry  Playford's  Lancing  Master,  1695  ed. 

80  The  May-Bay  Country  Mirth. 

"  Did  you  not  see  the  Lord  of  the  May, 
Walk  along  in  his  rich  array  ? 
There  goes  the  Lass  that  is  only  his, 
See  how  they  meet  and  how  they  kiss ! 

Come  Will,  run  Gill, 
Or  dost  thou  list  to  lose  thy  labour  ? 

Kit  Croud,  scrape  aloud,  P*  Tbe  fiddler.  Orowder. 

Tickle  her,  Tom,  with  a  Pipe  and  Tabor  !  1 6 

'  "  Lately  I  went  to  a  Mask  at  Court, 
"Where  I  see  Dances  of  every  sort ; 
There  they  did  dance  with  time  and  measure, 
But  none  like  Country  Dance  for  pleasure  : 

There  did  they  dance  just  as  in  France, 
Not  like  the  English  lofty  manner,  [Ox/.  Droll, '  lusty  m.' 

And  every  she,  must  furnished  be 
With  a  feather' d  knack  when  she  sweats  for  to  fan  her. 

"  But  we  when  we  dance,  and  do  happen  to  sweat, 
Have  a  Napkin  in  hand  for  to  wipe  off  the  wet, 
And  we  with  our  doxies  do  jig  it  about, 
Not  like  the  Court  which  often  are  out ; 

If  the  Tabor  do  play,  we  thump  it  away, 
And  turn  and  meet  our  Lasses  to  kiss  'em  ; 

Nay,  they  will  be  as  ready  as  we, 
That  hardly  at  any  time  [we]  can  miss  'em.  32 

"  Yonder  comes  Dolly  over  the  Down, 
And  Roger  he  gives  her  a  fair  green  Gown, 
See  how  he  hands  her  up  again, 
And  how  they  trip  along  amain  ; 

They  pass,  o'er  the  grass, 
And  at  every  Stile  they  are  billing, 

He  gives,  she  receives, 
Being  youthful,  ready  and  willing.  40 

"  There  is  not  any  that  shall  out-vye 
My  little  pretty  Joan  and  I ; 
For  I'm  sure  I  can  dance  as  well 
As  Robin,  Jenny,  Tom,  or  Nell : 

Last  year,  we  were  here, 
When  ruff  Ralph  he  play'd  us  a  Roree,       [SeeJVb/«,on.  p.  79. 

And  we,  merrily 
Thumpt  it  about  and  gain'd  the  glory.  48 

"  Come,  sweet  Joan,  let  us  call  a  new  Dance, 
That  we  before  them  may  advance, 
Let  it  be  what  you  desire  and  crave, 
And  sure  the  same  sweet  Joan  shall  have." 


May-Day  Country  Mirth.  81 

She  cry'd  and  reply' d, 
If  to  please  me  thou  wilt  endeavour, 

Sweet  pig,  the  Wedding  Jigg, 
Then,  nay  dear,  I'll  love  thee  for  ever."  56 

Sure  I  will  grant  thee  thy  request, 
And  learn  thee  that  among  the  rest ; 
For  e'er  it  be  long  we'll  Marry'd  be, 
And  then  my  pretty  Joan  shall  see, 

Pine  toys,  sweet  joys, 
And  soft  kisses  too,  out  of  measure  ; 

Sweet  charms,  in  my  arms, 
This  will  be  a  fountain  of  pleasure.  64 

"  And  if  we  hold  on  as  we  begin, 
Joan  thee  and  I  the  Garland  shall  win  : 
Nay,  if  thou  live  till  another  day, 
I'll  make  thee  Lady  of  the  May  • 

Dance  about,  in  and  out, 
Turn  and  kiss,  and  then  for  greeting  ; 

Now  Joan,  we  have  done, 
Pare  thee  well  till  the  next  merry  meeting."  72 

[No  colophon.     Pepys'  ' '  printed  for  W.  Thackeray,  at  the  sign  of  the  Angel  in 
Duck-Lane"     Black-letter,  two  woodcuts.     Date,  circa  1672-84.] 

[This  earlier  version  is  from  a  MS.,  formerly  Rev.  J.  H.  Todd's,  dated  1630.  It 
shows  the  hand  of  a  courtier  Poet,  who  pines  for  rural  felicity.  Our  broadside 
ballad  is  the  popularized  extension  of  the  song.] 

&  fHag^arj  JSallaU. 

TONE,  to  the  J/>n/-pole  away  let  us  on,  Tyme  is  swift,  and  will  be  gone ; 
*J    See  how  the  Wenches  hie  to  the  Greene,  where  they  know  they  shall  be  seene, 
Besse,  Moll,  Kate,  Doll,  these  want  no  loves  to  attend  them  ; 
Hodge,  Dick,  Tom,  Nick,  brave  dauncers,  who  can  amend  them  ? 

Jone,  shall  we  have  now  a  Say  or  a  Rounde,  or  some  daunce  that  is  new  founde  ? 
Lately  I  was  at  a  Masque  in  the  Courte,  where  I  saw  of  every  sorte 
Many  a  dance,  made  in  France,  many  a  Brawle  and  many  a  measure ; 
Gay  coates,  sweet  notes,  brave  wenches,  0  'twas  a  treasure  ! 

But  now,  methinkes  these  courtlye  toyes  Us  deprive  of  better  joyes  ; 
Gowne  made  of  gray,  and  skin  softe  as  silke,  breath  as  sweet  as  morning  milke  ; 
O  these  more  please,  these  hath  my  Jone  to  delight  me  : 
False  wiles,  Courte  smiles,  none  of  these  hath  Jone  to.  despight  me.       (1630.) 


[In  the  three-fold  collection  made  by  Captain  "William  Hicks,  entitled  "  Oxford 
Drollery,  1671,  the  Second  Part  (not  his  own,  which  is  the  Third),  p.  85,  five 
stanzas  are  given,  viz.  our  four  on  p.  78,  and  the  final  stanza,  "  And  if  we  hold 
on  as  we  begin,''  etc.  Win.  Hicks  notes  it  as  by  one  of  the  Oxford  University 
Wits,  "  the  third  and  fourth  verses  being  lately  added."     Of  .  Pills,  ii.  175.] 

*#*  From  dancing  round  a  May-pole  to  dangling  a  pole  with  May-flies,  making 
fish  dance  instead,  is  an  easy  transition.  Our  "  Jovial  Anglers  "  is  in  the  1670 
Merry  Drollery  Complete  (not  in  1661  edition),  without  the  Massauiello  stanza  (5th). 

VOL.    VII.  G 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  III.  232  ;  Jersey  (now  Earl  Crawford's),  II.  248.] 

€f)e  iRogal  Eccceation  of  3fotrial  anglers 

Proving  that  all  men  are  Intanglers, 
And  all  Professions  are  turn'd  Anglers. 

To  the  tune  of,  AmarilUs.     [1663.     See  vol.  vi.  p.  113.] 

OF  all  the  Recreations  which  attend  on  humane  nature, 
There's  nothing  soares  so  high  a  pitch,  or  is  of  such  a  stature, 
As  is  a  subtle  Angler's  life,  in  all  Men's  approbation, 
For  Anglers'  tricks,  do  daily  mix,  with  every  Corporation. 

When  Eve  and  Adam  liv'd  by  love,  and  had  no  cause  for  jangling, 
The  Devil  did  the  waters  move,  the  Serpent  fell  to  angling  : 
He  baits  his  hook,  with  God-like  look,  quoth  he,  "  This  will  intangle  her ; 
The  woman  chops,  and  down  she  drops  :  the  Devil  was  first  an  angler. 

Physitians,  Lawyers,  and  Divines,  are  most  ingenious  janglers  ; 
And  he  that  tryes,  shall  find  in  fine  that  all  of  them  are  anglers : 
Whilst  grave  Divines  doe  fish  for  souls,  Physitians,  like  cormudgeons, 
Do  bait  with  health  to  fish  for  wealth,  and  Lawyers  fish  for  gudgeons. 

A  Politician,  too,  is  one,  concern'd  in  Piscatory  ; 

lie  writes,  and  fights,  unites,  and  slights,  to  purchase  wealth,  and  glory  ; 
His  plummet  sounds  the  kingdom's  bounds  to  make  the  fishes  nibble  ; 
He  draws  'em  with  a  past  of  lyes,  and  he  blinds  them  with  the  Bible. 

[a/,  led.  His  ground  bait  is  a  past,  etc. 

Royal  Recreation  of  Jovial  Anglers.  83 

2TJje  JSecanto  Part,  to  the  same  Totte. 

A  Fisher  man  subdued  a  place  in  spight  of  locks  and  staples, 

The  warlike  Massaniello  was  a  fisher-man  of  Naples,  [June,  1647. 

Commanded  forty  thousand  men,  and  prov'd  a  Royal  "Wrangler  ; 

You  ne're  shall  see  the  like  agen,  of  such  a  famous  angler. 

Upon  the  Exchange,  'twixt  twelve  and  one,  meets  many  a  neat  intangler ; 

'Mo[ng]st  Merchant-men,  not  one  in  ten,  but  is  a  cunning  angler, 

And  (like  the  fishes  in  the  brooke)  brother  doth  fish  for  brother ; 

A  golden  Bait  hangs  at  the  hooke,  and  they  fish  for  one  another. 

A  Shop-keeper  I  next  preferr,  a  formal  man  in  black,  sir, 

That  throws  his  angle  every  where,  and  cryes,  "  What  is't  you  lack,  sir  ?  " 

Fine  silks  and  stuffs,  or  hoods  and  muffs ;  but  if  a  courtier  prove  th'  intangler, 

My  Citizen  must  look  to  't  then,  or  the  fish  will  catch  the  angler. 

A  Lover  is  an  angler  too,  and  baits  his  hooke  with  kisses ; 

He  playes  and  toyes,  and  fain  would  do,  but  often  times  he  misses  ; 

He  gives  her  rings,  and  such  fine  things  as  fan  or  muff,  or  night-hood  ; 

But  if  you'l  cheat  a  City  Peat,  you  must  bait  her  with  a  Knight-hood. 

There  is  no  angler  like  a  "Wench  stark-naked  in  the  water, 

She'l  make  you  leave  both  trowt  and  tench  and  throw  your  self  in  after  : 

Your  hook  and  line,  she  will  confine,  the  intangled  is  the  Intangler  ? 

And  this  I  fear,  hath  spoyl'd  the  ware  of  many  a  Jovial  Angler. 

If  you  will  trowl  for  a  Scrivener's  soul,  cast  in  a  rich  young  Gallant ; 

To  take  a  Courtier  by  the  powl,  throw  out  a  golden  tallent; 

And  yet  I  doubt,  the  draught  will  not  compound  for  half  the  charge  on't ; 

But  if  you'l  catch  the  Devil,  at  a  snatch,  go  bait  him  with  a  Serjeant. 

Thus  have  I  made  the  Angler's  Trade  to  stand  above  defiance, 
For  like  the  mathematick  art,  it  runs  through  every  science. 
If  with  my  Angling  Sons:,  I  can  with  mirth  and  pleasure  seaze  yee, 
I'le  bait  my  hook  with  Wit  again,  and  angle  still  to  please  ye. 

London,  Printed  for  F.  Coles,  T.  Vere,  W.  Gilbertson,  and  I.  Wright. 

[In  Black-letter,  with  three  woodcuts.  1st,  a  curious  old  cut  of  two  men  fishing 
on  opposite  sides  of  a  stream  ;  2nd,  an  Exchange  haberdasher  ;  3rd,  the  Cavalier, 
iii.  576  left.    A  Jacobean  Angler  is  substituted  on  p.  82.     Date,  circa  1663.] 

STfye  Utrjjttt  3^  ace  in  ffotfesfynx 

"  YorJce,  Yorke,  for  my  monie,  of  all  the  Cities  that  ever  I  see  ! 
For  merrie  pastime  and  companie,  except  the  citie  of  London." 

YORKSHIRE  well  deserved  such  praise  from  William  Elderton  (JRoxburghe 
Ballads,  i.  4),  not  having  been  forgetful  to  entertain  strangers ;  an  angel 
presented  himself  in  the  much  later  Poet  who  celebrated  the  Temple- Newsham 
foot-race  of  four  bonny  Yorkshire  maidens. 

Temple- Neivsh am- Green,  east  of  Leeds,  is  in  the  West-Riding  of  Yorkshire. 
Another  locality,  Drax  (a  village  in  the  West-Riding,  Yorks..  seven  miles 
S.E.  from  Selby),  enjoyed  a  more  prosaic  foot-race,  at  a  much  later  date, 
celebrated  in  the  "  New  Song  "  (p.  85)  on  Eclipse,  a  runner  who  appears  to  have 
been  so  nick-named,  in  compliment  to  bis  fleetness,  after  the  Epsom  Racer,  1769, 
whence  came  the  proverb,  "  Eclipse  is  in  !  and  the  rest  are  Nowhere  !  "  Biped 
Eclipse  beat  Charles  Walker,  ' '  not  a  great  runner,  but  a  great  talker ; "  thus 
Brag  goes  down  before  Holdfast.  It  was  reprinted  by  Ritson  in  1788,  the  year 
before  the  never-beaten  Epsom  racer  '  Eclipse '  died,  aged  25  years,  Feb.  28, 1789. 
Born  April  1,  1764,  on  the  day  of  the  great  solar  eclipse  :  hence  the  stallion's  name. 

Drax  is  separated  from  the  East-Riding  by  the  Uuse. 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  IV.  76;  Tepys  Coll.,  IV.  26.] 

Ct)e  WLiVQin  i&ace ; 

©r,  |3orn-shtrc's  (Gloro. 

Being  an  Account  of  a  Bare  latclg  Bun  at  Temple-Newsham- Green ; 
none  feeing  atmu'ttctJ  to  run  but  such,  as  faoetc  supposed  Ut'rrjins. 
2Erje  first  that  eame  to  the  (Etna  ffliles  race  enti  teas  to  fjabe  a 
Stlucr  .Spoon,  the  sccono  a  Siluer  Booktn,  the  thi'ru  a  Stlbcr 
Chinvblc,  antj  the  fourth  Xothinn;  at  all. 

Tune  is,  A  New  Game  at   Cards.     [See  Note,  p.  92.] 

YOu  that  do  desire  to  hear,  of  a  Virgin  race  run  in  York-shire, 
Come  and  listen,  I'le  declare  such  news  before  you  ne'r  did  hear; 
For  I  think  since  the  world  begun,  but  seldom  Virgins  races  run. 

Four  Virgins  that  supposed  were,  a  race  did  run,  I  now  declare, 
Sure  such  a  race  was  never  seen  as  this  at  Tern  pie-New  sham  -  Gr  een  ; 
In  half-shirts  and  drawers  these  Maids  did  run,  but  bonny  Nan 
the  race  has  won. 

A  silver  spoon  this  Nan  obtain'd,  the  nest  a  silver  bodkin  gain'd  ; 
The  third  that  was  not  quite  so  nimble,  was  to  have  a  silver  thimble  : 
And  she  that  was  the  last  of  all,  nothing  unto  her  share  did  fall. 

In  drawers  red  Ann  Clayton  run,  and  she  it  was  the  race  that  won  ; 
Pegg  Hall,  as  I  may  tell  to  you,  did  run  in  drawers  that  were  blew  ; 
Honest  Alice  Hall  that  was  the  third,  her  drawers  were  white, 
upon  my  word. 

A  concourse  great  of  people  were,  for  to  behold  these  Virgins  there, 
Who  so  well  acted  the  man's  part,  and  love  a  Man  with  all  their  heart ; 
But  what  means  this  ?  for  well  we  know,  Maids  through  the  nation 
all  do  so. 

Xow  let  us  come  to  bonny  Nan,  who  won  a  race  once  of  a  man, 
In  Bassing -Hall- Street  he  did  dwell,  his  name  was  Luke  'tis  known 
full  well, 
And  let  me  now  declare  to  you,  at  something  else  she'l  beat  him  too. 

Let  none  the  Yorkshire  Girls  despise,  who  are  so  active  now  a  days, 
So  brisk  and  nimble  they  do  growr,  that  few  can  match  them  I  do  know : 
Then  let  us  stand  up  for  York-shire,  those  Country  Ghis  I  love 
most  dear. 

A  York-shire  girl  who  can  out- vie?  no  city  girls  can  them  come  nigh, 
They've  rosey  blushes  in  their  cheeks ;  while  City  Girls  are  green 
as  leeks : 
This  with  my  fancy  will  agree,  a  York-shire  Girl  shall  be  for  me. 

The  Virgin  Race,  in  Yorkshire.  85 

Then  here's  a  health  to  a  York-shire  girl,  for  in  mine  eye  she  is  a  pearl, 

"Whose  beauty  doth  so  charm  mine  eye,  that  for  her  I  would  freely  dye  : 

Her  virtues  do  her  face  adorn,  and  make  her  look  fresh  as  the  morn. 

JNW  to  conclude,  unto  my  friend,  these  lines  I  freely  recommend  ; 
Advising  him  above  the  rest  to  love  a  York-shire  Girl  the  best ; 
But  let  him  use  his  skill,  for  I  will  love  a  York-shire  girl  until  I  dye. 

Printed  for  J.   Wright,  J.  Clark,  W.  Thackerag,  and  T.  Passinger. 

[In  Black-letter.  Three  woodcuts.  1st,  a  ragged  Beggar-maid,  mounted  on 
horse-back,  riding  away  from  a  gallant  who  is  burdened  with  her  bag  of  scraps  : 
a  cut  that  had  evidently  belonged  to  "  I  met  with  a  jovial  Beggar,  and  into  the 
fields  I  led  her"  (Roxb.  Coll.,  II.  241,  a  loose  ballad,  "The  Knight  and  the 
Beggar  Wench,"  not  yet  reprinted).  2nd,  the  girl  holding  a  fan,  as  on  p.  78. 
3rd,  a  Woman  in  Rufl",  be-hooped,  as  in  Eoxb.  Bds.,  ii.  253  right.  Date,  circa  1672.] 

[Roxburghe  Collection,  III.  804.] 

%  GSTcrjj  Sons;  °*>  tje  ffiamblcrg  tftttetj. 

TOu  Sportsmen  all  both  old  and  young,  come  listen  now  unto  my  song, 
It  is  of  a  foot-race  which  was  run,  at  Drax  in  Yorkshire,  by  two  men, 
To  my  fa,  da,  la,  etc. 

One  of  whose  names  it  is  C — s  TV—r,  not  a  great  runner,  but  a  great  talker, 
'Tother  Eclipse,  a  man  of  great  fame,  for  by  his  running  he  got  that  name. 

On  the  twenty- [fif]th  day  of  August,  the  time  appointed  that  run  they  must, 
Where  a  great  many  people  did  resort  to  Drax  to  see  the  famous  sport. 

When  many  people  was  come  there,  they  some  of  them  begun  to  fear, 

Says  they,  "  No  race  we  shall  have,  I  think,  for  C — s  is  come  without  his  jink." 

But  soon  the  money  he  did  produce,  or  we  shou'd  have  said  it  was  his  excuse, 
"  0  then,"  says  they,  "  now  let's  to  place,  for  I  believe  we  shall  have  a  race.'' 

While  the  company  stay'd  in  town,  they  cry'd  out  Eclipse  for  half  a  crown  ; 
No  sooner  into  the  field  they  came,  but  the  gamblers  all  chang'd  their  name. 

They  cry'd  out  C—s  for  a  pound  or  two,  which  made  Drax  people  all  look  blue  ; 
"  Oh  !  "  says  they,  "  our  chance  is  ill,  for  these  must  needs  be  men  of  skill. 

They  started,  but  had  not  run  half  way,  before  C — s  begun  to  shew  foul  play, 
"  0  then,"  says  Eclipse,  "  if  that's  the  case,  I'll  let  thee  see  another  pace." 

Then  Eclipse  made  a  spring  and  left  him  soon,  which  made  the  gamblers  to  look  down, 
Upon  that  Drax  people  gave  a  shout,  and  made  poor  Ch — s  give  running  out. 

0  brave  Eclipse!  thou  hast  won  this  race,  and  brought  this  Champion  to  disgrace, 
Thy  name  shall  be  Eclipse  for  ever,  while  Ch — s  is  nought  but  a  deceiver. 

So  to  conclude  and  end  my  song,  I  hope  the  gamblers  will  think  on, 
And  never  shout  with  such  a  sound,  to  lay  a  guinea  to  a  pound. 

If  any  of  you  I  do  offend,  with  these  few  lines  I  now  have  penn'd, 

1  ask  your  pardon  for  the  same,  but  I'll  conclude  with  Eclipse's  fame. 

To  my  fa,  da,  la,  da,  la,  da,  la,  lade,  dou,  dade,  dou,  de. 

[White -letter,  a  single  slip  song.    One  woodcut,  of  a  Nymph  standiug,  with  openly- 
displayed  bust.   Jink  =  chink,  money.   Date,  circa,  1771-80.    See  Note,  on  p.  83.] 


JDate^unting  anU  jFor^unting  §)ong& 

"  '  What  is  all  this  fuss  about  ?  '  do  you  ask  ?    Why  it  is  a  fox-hunt,  man." 

"And  do  you  mean  to  say,"  asked  the  Chevalier,  "that  all  these  men  and 
horses,  and  all  these  dogs,  have  been  running  after  the  little  beast  I  saw 
go  into  that  hole  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure,"  answered  his  companion.  "  It  is  the  most  glorious  sport  in  the 
world ! " 

"  And  are  such  accidents  as  these  of  frequent  occurrence?"  demanded  the 
Chevalier  ? 

"  Oh,  continually,"  replied  the  other.  "Seldom  a  day  passes  without  some- 
thing of  the  kind.  I  myself  have  twice  broken  my  collar-bone,  once  my 
arm,  once  my  leg,  and  have  been  once  trepanned."  .  .  . 

"  What  a  nice  thing  a  fox  must  be  !  "  said  the  Chevalier.  "I  should  like  to 
eat  a  bit  very  much."—  The  Commissioner,  cap.  vi.  p.  50,  1843. 


HERE  are  few  Hunting  Songs  among  the  Roxburghe  Ballads. 
One  '  Eox-Chase,'  beginning,  "All  in  a  morning  fair,"  has  been 
reprinted  in  vol.  i.  p.  360  ;  another,  "  Diana  and  her  darlings 
dear,"  came  into  vol.  ii.  p.  520.  Except  "  The  Hunting  of  the 
Hare,"  with  woodcut,  on  p.  87,  and  "The  Huntsman's  Delight" 
(Roxb.  Coll.,  IV.  76,  "Come  all  you  young  maidens,")  our  remaining 
sporting  ballads  are  restricted  to  the  eighteenth  century,  which 
produced  nearly  all  the  best  '  Songs  of  the  Chace?  and  the  best  type 
of  fox-hunters.  "  Princely  Diversion,"  on  p.  91,  is  a  Hare-hunt; 
the  other  two  are  Fox-hunting  songs  of  the  Cleaveland  pack,  1785. 
One  on  p.  95  is  the  record  of  a  marvellous  run,  from  Craythorne 
to  Hinderwell  between  Saltburn  and  Whitby. 

It  was  all  very  well  for  the  quaint  but  sound-hearted  Chevalier 
de  Lunatico  Inquirendo,  in  George  Paul  Ransford  James's  neglected 
but  sparkling  novel,  "The  Commissioner,"  to  wonder  at  the  risk 
and  fatigue  encountered  by  the  gallant  sportsmen  in  their  pur- 
suit of  "  the  nasty  stinking  carrion  "  whom  they  could  not  eat, 
when  killed.  So  long  as  we  admit  the  right  to  slay  Reynard  at  all, 
remembering  his  farm-yard  depredations,  the  hunting  him  fairly 
yields  as  honourable  a  death  as  he  could  reasonably  desire,  seeing 
that  he  has  many  good  chances  of  escape,  of  which  he  is  cunning 
enough  to  avail  himself  skilfully,  and  for  anything  we  know  to  the 
contrary  he  may  enjoy  the  run  as  much  as  the  hounds  and  horses, 
let  alone  the  fair  Diana  of  the  hunting-field,  who  sits  her  steed  so 
gracefully  and  takes  the  bullfinch  gallantly,  asking  a  lead  from 
nobody,  but  giving  it  by  preference.  To  ride  to  hounds  is  better 
by  far  than  to  look  at  pigeon  shooting,  with  minicking  minauderie, 
while  the  wounded  birds  fall  in  the  lady's  lap  at  Hurlingham. 
It  is  best  for  her  to  be  womanly,  but  she  forfeits  nothing  when  an 
Amazon  takes  the  field  and  her  fences  like  a  man.  She  is  out  of 
place  in  a  '  warm  corner '  at  the  cover  side. 

We  begin  with  "  The  Hunting  of  the  Hare,"  as  a  thing  of  course. 


[Roxb.  Coll.,  III.  202,  610;   Pepys,  IV.  270;  Wood,  402,  79;  Douce,  III.  41.] 

Ct)e  punting  of  tl)e  tyaxt. 

mitf)  £?r  lam  Mill  anti  t&mammu 

&S  'tuias  pErfcitm'o  on  Banstead  bourns,  [*■'■  ^amstead. 

23g  Cong-catcfjfts,  anb  their  hounbs. 
To  A  pleasant  new  Ttjne  [Q/"aW  the  sports  the  world  doth  yield~]. 

OF  all  delights  that  Earth  doth  yeeld, 
Give  me  a  pack  of  Hounds  in  field  : 
Whose  eccho  shall  throughout  the  sky 
Make  Jove  admire  our  harmony, 
And  wish  that  he  a  mortal  were, 
To  view  the  Pastime  we  have  here. 

I  will  tell  you  of  a  rare  scent, 
"Where  many  a  Gallant  Horse  was  spent, 
On  B anstead- Downs  a  Hare  we  found,1 
"Which  led  us  all  a  smoaking  round ; 
O're  hedge  and  ditch  away  she  goes, 
Admiring  her  approaching  foes. 

But  when  she  found  her  strength  to  wast[e], 
She  parleyed  with  the  hounds  at  last : 
Kind  hounds,"  quoth  she,  "  forbear  to  kill 
A  harmless  Hare,  that  ne'er  thought  ill, 
And  if  your  Master  sport  do  crave, 
1'le  lead  a  scent  as  he  would  have." 

[a.l.  such  pleasures. 

[a.l.  Chadwell  Close. 

[=wondering  at. 


1  Banstead  in  Surrey  (15  miles  from  London,  3  S.E.  from  Epsom).  The  fine 
turf  of  Banstead  Downs  was  early  celebrated  for  coursing.  But  it  is  "  A  far  cry 
to  Banbury,"  if  Oxon  Banbury  be  meant  in  line  116  :  1661  lect.,  Througabby. 


Hunting  of  the  Hare,  on  Banstead-Downs. 


"  Away,  away,  thou  art  alone, 
Make  haste,  I  say,  and  get  thee  gone ! 
"Wee'l  give  thee  Law  for  half  a  mile, 
To  see  if  thou  canst  us  beguile  ; 
But  then  expect  a  thund'ring  cry, 
Made  by  us  and  our  Harmony." 


"  Now  since  you  set  my  life  so  sleight, 
I'l  make  Black  Sloven  turn  to  white  ; 
And  Yorkshire  Gray,  that  runs  at  all, 
I'le  make  him  wish  he  were  in  stall ; 
And  Sorrel,  he  that  seems  to  flye, 
I'le  make  him  supple  e're  he  dye. 

"  Let  Barnard's  Bay  do  what  he  can, 
Or  Barton's  Gray  that  now  and  then 
Did  interrupt  me  on  my  way, 
I'le  make  him  neither  jet  nor  play, 
Or  constant  Robin,  though  he  lye, 
At  his  advantage,  what  care  I  ? 

"  Will  Hatton  he  hath  done  mee  wrong, 
He  struck  mee  as  I  run  along, 
And  with  one  pat  made  mee  sore  so, 
That  I  ran  reeling  to  and  fro ; 
But  if  I  dye,  his  Master  tell, 
That  fool  shall  ring  my  passing  bell." 


"  Alas,  poore  Hare  !  it  is  our  nature, 
To  kill  thee,  and  no  other  creature  ; 
For  our  Master  wants  a  bit, 
And  thou  wilt  well  become  the  spit, 
He'l  eat  thy  flesh,  we'l  pick  thy  bone, 
This  is  thy  doom,  so  get  thee  gone  !  " 

2Tfte  ScccnfO  ^Jart,  to  the  same  tuxe. 


"  Your  Master  may  have  better  chear, 
For  I  am  dry,  and  butter  is  dear, 
But  if  he  please  to  make  a  friend, 
He'd  better  [ha]ve  a  pudding's  end, 
For  I  being  kill'd,  he  sport  will  lack, 
And  I  must  hang  on  the  Hunts-man's  back." 

[a./.  '  company.' 


Burham  Bay. 


Barron's  Bay. 

[cf.  1.  117. 



■  A.  Kit  Bolton. 

{text,  so  sore. 

[text,  '  give.1 


Hunting  of  the  Have,  on  Banstead-Downs.  89 


"  Alas,  poor  Hare !  we['d]  pity  thee, 
If  with  our  nature  'twould  agree  ; 
But  all  thy  doubling  shifts,  I  fear, 
"Will  not  prevail,  thy  death's  so  near. 

Then  make  thy  Will,  it  may  be  that 

May  save  thee,  or  I  know  not  what."  [»•*•  else  I- 

[The  Hake  makes  her  "Will.] 

"  rPHen  I  bequeathe  my  body  free, 
J_      Unto  your  Master's  courtesie  : 
And  if  he  please  my  life  to  grant, 
I'le  be  his  game  when  sport  is  scant : 

But  if  I  dye,  each  greedy  Hound 

Divides  my  entra[i]ls  on  the  ground. 

"  Imprimis,  I  bequeathe  my  head, 
To  him  that  a  fair  soul  doth  wed, 
Who  hath  before  her  maiden-head  lost : 
I  would  not  have  the  proverb  crost, 

Which  I  have  heard  'mongst  many  quiblets  : 

Set  the  Hare1  s-head  'gainst  the  Goose-giblets.  72 

"  Item,  I  do  give  and  bequeathe 
To  men  in  debt  (after  my  death) 
My  subtle  scent,  that  so  they  may, 
Be  ware  of  such  as  would  betray 
Them  to  a  miserable  fate, 
By  blood-hounds  from  the  Com_pter-ga.te. 

"  Item,  I  to  a  Turn-coat  give 
(That  he  may  more  obscurely  live) 
My  swift  and  sudden  doublings,  which 
Will  make  him  politick  and  rich  ; 

Though  at  the  last,  with  many  wounds, 

I  wish  him  kill'd  by  his  own  hounds. 

"  Item,  I  give  into  their  hands 
That  purchase  Dean  and  Chapter's  lands,  \n.b. 

My  wretched  jealousies  and  fears, 
Mixt  with  salt  of  Orphans'  tears. 

That  long  vexations  may  persever, 

To  plague  them  and  their  heirs  for  ever.  90 

"  Before  I  dye  (for  breath  is  scant) 
I  would  supply  men's  proper  want, 
And  therefore  I  bequeathe  unto 
The  Scrivener  (give  the  Devil  his  due) 
That  forgeth,  swears,  and  then  forswears, 
(To  save  his  credit)  both  my  ears. 

90  Hunting  of  the  Hare,  on  Banstead-Downs. 

"  I  give,  to  some  Sequestred  man, 
My  skin  to  make  a  jacket  on  ; 
And  I  bequeathe  my  feet  to  they, 
That  shortly  mean  to  run  away  ; 

"When  Truth  is  Speaker,  Falsehood's  dumb  : 
Foxes  must  flye  when  Lyons  come. 

"  To  Fidlers  (for  all  trades  must  live), 
To  serve  for  strings,  my  guts  I  give  : 
For  Gamesters  that  do  play  at  rut, 
And  love  the  sport,  I  give  my  skut : 

But  (last  of  all  in  this  sad  dump) 

To  Tower-hill  I  bequeathe  my  rump."     lMav> 1660-]    108 

[The  Huntsman.] 

"  "Were  ever  Hounds  so  basely  crost  ? 
Our  Masters  call  us  off  so  fast, 
That  Ave  the  scent  have  almost  lost, 
And  they  themselves  must  rule  the  rost, 

Therefore,  kind  Hare,  wee'l  pardon  you  !  " 
"  Thanks,  gentle  Hounds,  and  so  adue  !  [Harb. 

"  And  since  your  Master  hath  pardon'd  me, 
I'le  lead  you  all  to  Banbury, 

"Whereas  Join  Turner  hath  a  room,  [«■*•  constant  Robin. 

To  entertain  all  guests  that  come, 
To  laugh  and  quaff  in  wine  and  beer 
A  full  carouse  to  your  Career."  120 

Jim's.      [Perhaps  by  John  Turner.] 

London,  Printed  for  Francis  Grove,  on  Snow-hill. 

[In  Black-letter.  Date,  1660,  with  the  original  cut  of  Prince  Kupert  and  his 
dog  '  Boy,'  not  the  debased  copy  as  on  our  p.  11.  Alongside  is  a  valuable  frag- 
ment, in  larger  Black-letter,  of  an  earlier  edition,  five  stanzas,  complete. 
Variations  noted,  from  Merry  Drollery,  ii.  Ill,  1661.  Roxb.  Coll.,  III.  610, 
has  a  Hare-Hunt,  John  White's  White-letter  reprint,  Newcastle-upon-Tyne.'] 

"  Here  lies,  whom  hound  did  ne'er  pursue, 
Nor  swifter  grey-hound  follow, 
Whose  foot  ne'er  tainted  morning  dew, 
Nor  ear  heard  Huntsman's  hollow  ; 

"  Old  Tiney,  surliest  of  his  kind, 
Who,  nursed  with  tender  care, 
And  to  domestic  bounds  confined, 
Was  still  a  wild  Jack  Hare. 

"  Though  duly  from  my  hand  he  took 
His  pittance  every  night, 
He  did  it  witli  a  jealous  look, 
And,  when  he  could,  would  bite." 

— Cowper's  Epitaph  on  a  Hare,  1783. 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  III.  600 ;  Douce  Coll.,  III.  75  verso.'] 

Prmcelg  ©ifarsfon ;  or,  QTfje  Sabial  punting  JHatclj. 

[Note. — This  is  a  Derbyshire  Ditty,  known  as  "  The  Trusley  Hunting-Song,"  and 
accredited  to  Tom  Handford,  the  poet-blacksmith  of  Trusley,  seven  miles  from 
Derby,  an  occasional  whipper-in  to  Squire  Coke  (here  called  Cooke),  who  died 
in  1716,  the  last  William  Coke  of  Trusley.  He  had  Tom's  portrait  painted,  and 
hung  up  in  the  Servants'  Hall  at  Trusley,  with  this  inscription,  "  This  is  Tom 
Handford, — Don't  you  know  it  ?     He  was  both  Blacksmith  and  Poet."] 

ONe  Valentine's  Day  in  the  Morning,  bright  Phoebus  began  to  appear, 
Sir  Wm.  Cook  winding  his  Horn,  and  was  going  a  hunting  the  Hare  ; 
Says  "  Handford,  uncouple  our  Beagles,  and  let  them  go  questing  along ! 
For  loose  her,  or  win  her,  we  must  go  to  dinner,  or  else  they  will  think  me  long." 

Says  Handford,  "  I  pray  now  forbare,  Sir,  and  talk  not  of  Dinner  so  soon  ; 
For  I've  not  been  a  hunting  this  year,  and  how  can  you  give  over  by  noon  ? 
Black  Sloven  shall  warm  your  bay  Robin,  and  make  him  go  smoacking  along ; 
Bonny  Dick  shall  not  gallop  so  quick,  if  we  light  of  a  Hare  that  is  strong."         16 

"  Well,  Handford,"  said  the  good  Esquire,  "  I  mean  [for]  to  show  you  a  trick; 
I  value  not  hedges  nor  ditches,  but  I'll  let  you  know  Bonny  Dick. 
Then  hie  for  the  C'losom- Bow-Field ;  we  shall  get  her,  Ten  thousand  to  one  I 
There's  Wonder  lays  hard  upon  Thunder,  away,  o'er  away,  she  is  gone  !  " 

The  morning  was  pleasant  all  o'er,  so  bright  and  so  clear  was  the  sky, 

We  made  all  the  woods  for  to  roar,  with  the  noise  of  our  sweet  Harmony. 

It  was  for  the  space  of  three  hours,  we  held  all  our  horses  to  speed, 

Black  Sloven  held  hard  to  bay  Robin,  but  yet  could  not  do  the  deed.  32 

It  was  about  nine  in  the  morning,  we  sounded  our  first  Passing-bell, 
"  Sir  William,  pray,  put  up  your  horn,  for  another  fresh  Hare  will  do  well." 
"  Well  Handford,"  said  the  good  Esquire,  "  What  think  you  of  my  bonny  Dick? 
Doe's  think  thou  can  make  him  to  tire,  or  not  for  to  gallop  so  quick  ?  " 

"  Faith,  Master,  I  needs  must  confess,  that  I  fear  I  was  boasting  too  soon ; 
But  hie  for  another  fresh  Hare,  and  your  Dick  should  have  dined  by  noon." 
"  Well  Handford,  have  at  your  Black  Sloven,  I'll  make  him  in  purple  to  ride; 
And  if  he  does  offer  to  tire,  I'll  certainly  liquor  your  hide."  48 

*'  You  serve  him  right  well,"  says  Jack  Wilson,  "for  he  has  [been]  taunting  at  me  ; 

I  never  was  beat  in  the  field,  so  for  a  fresh  Hare  let  us  see. 

For  here  is  some  Closes  of  Corn,  see  well  at  your  place,  ev'ry  one, 

Then  Master,  pray  pull  out  your  Horn,  for  away,  o'er  away,  she  is  gone  !  " 

"  Young  Bluebell,"  he  cry'd,  "  is  before,  and  she  cry'd  it  all  over  the  lane ; 
And  after  her  twelve  couple  more  :  "  thus  they  rattled  it  over  the  plain. 
Bonny  Dick  play'd  with  his  bridle,  and  went  at  a  desperate  rate. 
"  Come  Handford,  Pox  take  you  !  you're  idle  ;  must  I  open  [for]  you  the  Gate  ?  " 

"  0,  your  humble  servant,  good  Master,  but  I  will  not  die  in  your  debt ; 
You  shall  find  Black  Sloven  go  faster,  for  now  he  begins  for  to  sweat." 
There's  Wonder  and  Thunder  and  Dido,  and  Merry-Lass  sweetly  runs  on, 
There's  Younger,  Old  Ranter,  Tantivee,  but  Beauty  she  leads  the  van. 

She  headed  them,  stoutly  and  bravely,  she  up  into  Sutton's  close  field ; 

Black  Sloven  began  to  grow  heavy,  and  made  a  fair  offer  to  yield. 

Jack  Wilson  came  swinging  before,  so  well  did  Bay  Robin  maintain, 

And  after  him  Bonny  Dick  scour'd  :  Black  Sloven  was  spur'd  in  vain, —  30 

But  had  the  luck  and  good  chance,  for  to  go  now  and  then  by  the  string; 
She  led  us  a  delicate  dance,  but  as  we  came  by  the  last  ring, 
A  fresh  Hare,  Deuce  take  her!  was  started,  we  ne'er  was  so  vexed  before : 
And  e'er  we  could  make  'em  forsake  her,  we  run  her  two  miles  or  more. 

92  Princely  Diversion,  the  Trusley  Hunting- Song. 

And  then  we  left  Sir  William  Cooke,  for  to  ponder  upon  the  old  Hare, 

Who  presently  leapt  o'er  a  brook,  and  a  desperate  leap  I  declare : 

He  had  not  got  past  a  mile,  [but]  the  cunning  old  Gipsy  he  spy'd, 

Was  making  back  to  her  old  s[o]ile,  then  "  Away,  o'er  away  !  "  he  cry'd.  96 

"  Away !  o'er  away,  my  brave  boys  !  "  and  merrily  winded  his  horn  ; 
Our  beagles  all  toss'd  up  their  heads,  and  they  soon  made  a  speedy  return ; 
And  drawing  just  up  to  the  point,  where  this  cunning  young  Gipsy  had  run, 
You  never  saw  better  Dogs  hunt,  for  life,  underneath  the  sun. 

Now  there  was  Tantivee  and  Ranter,  they  sounded  their  last  Passing-bell, 
And  Wilson  made  moan  unto  Handford,  "  A  cup  of  Old-Hock  will  do  well." 
And  Handford  cry'd,  "  Master,  ride  faster,  for  now  I  begin  to  grow  cool. 
With  sweat  all  my  cloaths  are  as  wet  as  if  I  had  been  in  some  Pool."  112 

Were  not  those  two  dainty  fine  Pusses,  they  held  us  from  Seven  to  One  ! 

We  scour'd  thro'  hedges  and  bushes,  so  merrily  we  run  on. 

And  as  for  the  praise  of  these  Hounds,  and  Horses  too,  that  gallop  so  free, 

My  Pen  would  not  bring  it  to  sound,  if  Time  would  allow  it  to  be.      [a.l.  Bounds. 

Now  Gallants,  I  bid  you  farewell,  for  I  fear  your  patience  I've  try'd; 

And  hie  for  a  Glass  of  good  Ale,  that  Poetry  may  be  admir'd. 

And  here's  a  good  Health  to  the  Sportsman ,  that  hunts  with  the  horn  and  the  hound  ! 

I  hope  you'l  all  pledge  for  the  future,  and  so  let  this  health  go  round.  128 

[Said  to  be  by  Tom  Handford.] 

London,  Printed  by  L.  How,  in  Petticoat- Lane,  near  White-Chappel-Bars. 

[White-letter,  one  cut.     Date  of  W.  Onley's  issue,  1702  at  latest.] 

Special  Notes  on  Tunes  (pp.  84,  93,  and  95). 

***  The  tune  named  on  p.  84,  A  New  Game  of  Cards,  belongs  to  "  Win  at  First, 
Lose  at  Last,"  beginning,  "Ye  merry  hearts  that  love  to  play  at  cards,"  etc., 
given  in  a  later  "  Group  of  Historical  Events  and  Occurrences,"  dedicated  to  our 
trusty  friend  Joseph  Grego,  who  has  best  illustrated  the  "  Humourists  in  Art." 

Tune  of  Ballinamono  Ora  (p.  93). 
*#*  Burden   and   tune   of  Ballinamona    Ora,   etc.,   belong  to,    1st. — Phelim 
O'Blunder's  song,  by  Moses  Mendez  in  "  The  Double  Disappointment,"  1747  : 
"  Wherever  I'm  going,  and  all  the  day  long, 
At  home  and  abroad,  or  alone  in  a  throng, 
I  find  that  my  passion's  so  lively  and  strong, 
That  your  name,  when  I'm  silent,  still  runs  in  my  song. 
Sing  Ballinamona  oro,  Ballinamona  oro.     A  kiss  of  your  sweet  hpsfor  me," 

2nd.— (John  O'Keefe's  "  Poor  Soldier,"  1782),  Father  Luke's  '  Priest's  Advice,' 
"  You  know  I'm  your  priest,  and  your  conscience  is  mine, 
But  if  you  grow  wicked,  'tis  not  a  good  sign  ; 
So  leave  off  your  raking,  and  marry  a  wife, 
And  then,  my  dear  Darby,  you're  settled  for  life. 
Sing  a  Ballinamona  oro,  Ballinamona  oro, 
A  good  merry  wedding  for  me  !  "         (Music  set  by  Wm.  Shield.) 

Also,  Armiger's  later  songs,  "  Descend,  ye  Chaste  Nine  !  strike  the  Chord  ; " 
"  Don't  you  know  I  from  Hawkesbury  came  ;  "  "I  sing  the  famed  Hunt;  "  and 
the  Quorenden  Hounds,  "  This  morning  at  work,  sowing  out  of  my  hopper." 

Tune  of,  A  Hunting  we  will  go  (p.  95). 

*>*  See  Popular  3fusic  of  the  Olden  Time,  p.  C51.  It  bore  various  names  from 
the  burden,  A  begging  we  will  go,  A  Hunting  we  will  go,  etc.  Henry  Fielding,  in 
1734,  for  his  Bon  Quixote  in  England,  wrote  "  The  dusky  night  rides  down  the  sky." 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  III.  387.     No  other  copy  known.] 

%  5I?eto  punting  £>omr, 

Wntit  on  a  j*o*  €f)m> 

[To  the  Tuiste  of,  Ballinamona  Oro.     See  Note  at  end,  and  p.  92.] 

COme  all  you  Foxhunters,  where  ever  you  be, 
Repair  to  the  Leven  if  Sportsmen  you'd  see, 
Such  hounds  and  such  horses  of  mettle  and  game 
As  are  worthy  to  be  recorded  in  fame. 
Sing  Ballinamona  oro,  Ballinamona  oro, 
Ballinamona  oro,  the  Lads  of  old  Cleveland  for  me. 

Dexter  and  Delver  and  Dido  for  speed, 

All  sprung  from  the  race  of  Charles  Turner's  fam'd  breed, 

A  sportsman  so  rare,  and  the  first  in  renown, 

As  witness  the  match  over  Feldom  he  won.  12 

Rover  and  Rally  and  Minor  likewise, 
Old  Spanker,  so  fierce,  the  thick  Cover  he  tries ; 
Matcham  and  Merrylass,  Reynard's  sworn  foe  : 
He  must  be  unkenneld,  hark  !  I  hear  Tally  0. 

Now  my  Lads,  spur  your  Horses,  and  smoke  'em  away, 
Jolly  Bacchus  and  Sampson  will  shew  you  some  play, 
Squire  Hall,  on  his  Wakefield,  that  pampered  Nag, 
Comes  neck  over  heels,  and  yet  of  him  will  brag.  24 

Burdon,  so  proud  of  his  high  mettled  steeds, 

And  the  annals  of  fame  record  their  great  deeds, 

Yet  in  hunting  he's  bet  sore  against  his  desire, 

He  sticks  in  the  dirt,  and  he's  pass'd  by  the  Squire.  [Bail. 

George  Baker,  on  Blacklegs,  how  determined  his  looks, 

He  defies  the  whole  field  over  hedge,  ditch  and  brooks ; 

He  keeps  him  quite  tight,  and  he  only  desires 

A  three  hours  chase,  I'll  be  damn'd  if  he  tires.  36 

See  thumping  along  goes  jolly  old  Walker, 
Whilst  close  at  his  heels  lay  the  Gisborough  Prior, 
With  powder  and  sweat,  Lord  !  how  awful!  h[is]  look,  ['he  looks-' 
"  Damn  you,  Matt !  did  you  mind  how  I  leap'd  yonder  brook  ?  " 

Watson,  so  fierce,  how  he  rides,  and  so  keen, 

He  thinks  he's  well  mounted,  and  sure  to  be  in  ; 

But  if  he  keep  running  at  this  gallant  pace, 

'Tis  twenty  to  one  he's  thrown  out  in  the  Chase.  48 

94  New  Hunting- Song,  on  a  Fox-Chase. 

The  first  in  the  burst  was  Scroop  on  old  Match1  em, 
Straining  hard  to  get  in,  Tom  swore  he  would  catch  'em, 
Whilst  screwing  along,  see  Smith,  only  mind  him, 
He's  top'd  the  barr'd  gate,  leaving  numbers  behind  him. 

Yonder  goes  StocMale  so  tight  and  so  trim,  [Note,  below. 

How  he  strokes  down  his  mare  which  he  fancies  so  slim. 
He  nicks  in  and  out  'till  he's  starv'd  Avith  the  cold, 
Go  bid  him  but  thirty  and  then  he'll  ride  bold.  60 

Preston,  so  brave,  with  his  heart  full  of  glee, 
On  his  Gaylass  well  mounted  as  he'd  wish  to  be, 
He  swears  that  he'll  ride  'till  he  dies  in  the  field, 
As  a  true  honest  Sportsman  he  never  will  yield. 

Coates,  on  his  Tyrant,  he  creeps  like  a  snail, 

He  puffs  and  he  blows,  and  how  he  rolls  his  tail ; 

Yet  a  Sportsman  so  bold  he  attempts  at  a  flyer, 

Old  Tyrant  leaps  short,  and  he's  down  in  the  mire.  72 

The  Baronet  cautious  is  pass'd  by  his  Brother, 

As  like,  you  would  swear,  as  one  egg's  like  another, 

When  fully  intending  to  lead  the  whole  field, 

A  damn'd  Stell  held  'em  both  'till  the  Fox  he  was  kill'd. 

The  Doctor,  you  scarcely  know  where  you  have  him, 

For  sometimes  he's  dodging  and  sometimes  he's  dashing, 

But  yet  to  the  Chase  will  he  eagerly  rush, 

And  lose  a  good  Patient  for  bold  ReynaroVs  brush.  84 

Roiontree,  a  noted  old  sportsman  as  good,  [Note,  below. 

Who  brags  of  his  Greytail,  that  choice  bit  of  Blood, 
How  at  Stoclcesly  so  clever  she  won  ev'ry  Race,         [St.aa  Leeen. 
And  now  that  she's  equally  fam'd  for  the  Chace. 

Flounders,  the  younger,  with  Eyelids  of  Glass, 

So  prim  on  his  stallion  and  fond  of  his  slash, 

One  single  good  run  finish'd  off  the  gay  Quaker, 

And  now  he's  gone  dumb  with  intent  to  turn  Speaker.  96 

Now  our  sport  being  over,  let's  home  without  fail, 
And  drown  those  misfortunes  in  Punch  and  good  Ale ; 
And  if  we're  thrown  out  we'll  draw  close  to  the  fire, 
And  drink  a  good  health  to  the  Baronet  and  Squire. 


[White -letter,  woodcut  of  a  fox  running.     N.p.n.     Date,  circd  1783.] 

*  Note. — Thomas  Cole,  Huntsman  ;  Kev.  George  Davison ;  Christopher  Rown- 
tree,  jun. ;  William  Stockdale.     (These  are  alluded  to,  in  line  97,  on  p.  95.) 

Both  this  ballad  and  next  are  on  Cleveland  Worthies,  of  nearly  the  same  date. 

From  Craythorne  and  Worsal  (near  Yarm),  by  Nunthorp,  Roseberry,  and 
Kildale  to  Hinderwell  sea-cliff  was  a  terrific  run.    Noble  fox  ! 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  III.  757.] 

a  312  etn  jFor=©unting  ^>onrj. 

(Tomposcti  6g  W.  S.  Kenrick,  antl  J.  Burtell. 

QHje  (ZT^ace  tun  tig  tfa  Cleveland  tfoi  pjounos,  on  SaturtJajj  tfje 
29tfj  ©ag  of  January,  1785. 

[To  the  tune  OF,  A  Hunting  we  will  go.~\ 

YE  hardy  sons  of  Chace,  give  ear,  all  listen  to  my  Song  ; 
'Tis  of  a  Hunt  perform'd  this  year,  that  will  be  talk'd  of  long  : 
When  a  hunting  we  do  go,  oho  oho  oho,  and  a  hunting  we  will  go,  oho,  oho,  oho, 
And  a  hunting  we  will  go,  oho,  oho,  oho,  with  the  Huntsman,  Tally  ho. 

On  Weary  Bank,  ye  know  the  same,  unkenell'd  was  the  Fox  ; 

Who  led  us.  and  our  Hounds  of  Fame,  o'er  Mountains,  Moors  and  Rocks. 

When  a  Hunting  we  do  go,  etc.  16 

'Twas  Craythorn  first  swift  Beynard  made,  to  Limton  then  did  fly  ; 

Full  speed  pursu'd  each  hearty  blade,  and  join'd  in  jovial  cry,  With  the  Hunts,  etc. 

To  Worsal  next  he  took  his  flight,  escape  us  he  would  fain  ; 

To  Picton  next  with  all  his  might,  to  Craythorn  back  again,  With  the,  etc.       32 

To  Weary  Bank  then  takes  his  course,  this  Fanny  Bell's  gill  flies  ; 

In  Seymour  Car  strains  all  his  force,  his  utmost  vigour  tries,  With  the,  etc. 

To  Tanton,  Nunthorp,  next  he  flies,  o'er  Langbrough  Big  goes  he  ; 

He  scours  like  light'ning  o'er  the  meads,  more  swift  Fox  could  not  be, 

Nor  with  a  Huntsman  better  matclid,  [taken  a  hunting,']  etc.  48 

To  Newton,  then  to  Boseberry,  to  Hutton  Lockerass  gill ; 

To  Lownsdale,  o'er  Court  Moor  go  we,  from  thence  to  Kildale  Mill,  With  the,  etc. 

By  this  our  zeal  was  not  subdu'd,  all  crosses  were  in  vain  ; 

To  Kildale,  Beynard  we  pursu'd,  to  Lownsdale  back  again,  With  the  Hunts,  etc.    64 

By  Percy  Cross  and  Sleddale  too,  and  Pilly  Big  full  fast, 

As  Fox  could  run,  to  Skylderskeiu,  and  Lockwood  Beck  he  past,  With  the,  etc. 

By  Freebrough  Hill  he  takes  his  way,  by  Danby  Lodge  also  ; 

With  ardour  we  pursue  our  prey,  as  swift  as  Hounds  could  go,  With  the,  etc.  80 

By  Coal  Pits  and  o'er  Stonegate  Moor,  to  Scayling,  Beynard  ran ; 

Was  such  a  Fox  e'er  seen  before  ?  His  equal  shew  who  can  !  When  a  Hunting,  etc. 

To  Barnby  now  by  Uythorp  Mill,  and  Mickleby  likewise; 

To  Ellerby,  to  Hinderivell,  still  stubborn  Beynard  flies,  With  the,  etc.  96 

The  Huntsman  now  with  other  three,*  and  Beynard  you'll  suppose  ;   [vide,  p.  92. 
Ten  couple  of  Hounds  of  high  degree,  one  field  now  did  inclose,  With  the,  etc. 

But  now  our  Chase  draws  near  an  end.  no  longer  we'll  intrude  ; 
For  on  the  Cliff,  rejoice  my  Friend,  swift  Beynard  there  we  view'd, 

With  the  Huntsman  Tally  ho,  etc.  112 

Sure  such  a  Chace  must  wonder  raise,  and  had  I  time  to  sinar. 
The  Huntsman's  deeds,  who  merits  praise,  would  make  the  Vallies  ring, 
When  a  Hunting  we  did  go,  etc. 

Come  Sportsmen  all  your  Glasses  fill,  and  let  the  toast  go  round  ; 
May  each  Foxhunter  flourish  still,  in  Health  and  Strength  abound, 

When  a  Hunting  we  did  go,  etc.  128 


[White-letter.     Woodcut  of  horseman.    Date,  1785.     See  Notes  on  pp.  92,  94.] 

f^cre  <£nos  tlje  ©roup  of  2Eratjes  anti  Sports. 



liirtu'ittj  ibt  '  fllroup  of  (ITrabcs  anU  Sports.' 

(To  the  same  Joseph  Knight.,  Esq.,  Acrosticized  on  p.  3.) 

UR  '  Trades  and  Sports '  have  reached  their  end 

(Ajirst-act  curtain  drops  betimes)  ; 
Once  more  we  greet  our  Knightly  friend, 
And  yield  this  earliest  '  Group  '  of  rhymes. 

He  leans  back  in  his  easy  chair, 

With  mild  approval  of  the  play  ; 
Little  to  dazzle,  rich  and  rare, 

Homely  our  actors,  quaint  or  gay. 

Yet  men  tvho  turn  a  backward  gaze 

On  Stuart  times,  in  scorn  or  love, 
Find  few  such  records  of  past  days 

As  these,  whereof  our  weft  is  wove. 

Historians  mark  the  State  intrigues, 
The  ruling  spirits'  faults  and  crimes, 

The  plots,  the  schemes,  the  foreign  leagues, 
The  falls  of  many  an  Ape  who  climbs  : 

Something  perchance  of  passionate  hate, 

Still  more  of  sordid  greed  for  gold, 
The  hireling  Placeman's  vapid  prate, 

The  liberties  for  bribery  sold. 

Yet  underneath  the  scurf  and  slime, 

The  surface  of  Success  or  Toss, 
We  trace  the  antics  of  each  mime, 

And  give  true  Text,  with  scanty  gloss : 

The  plebs,  the  vulgus,  pea,  the  mob, 
The  '  common  people,'  coarse  and  rude  ; 

Seldom  averse  to  cheat  or  rob, 

Swaggering  beneath  their  servitude  : 

Frankly  they  show  their  stains  and  flaws, 

To  us,  who  come  /wo  centuries  late  ; 
Spawn  were  they  ofSoVs  '  Good  Old  Cause  ' 

That  over -turn 'd  both  Church  and  State. 

Nought  the  unquiet  nation  gain'd 

From  Anarchy  and  Rebel-rule, 
Save  baneful  schism  or  faith  profaned  ; 

Turvey-topped  rise  of  knave  and  fool. 

Time  teas,  we  fought  amid  the  throng, 

Or  found  amusement  in  sheer  fun  ; 
Now,  we  content  us  with  a  Song, 

Flay  our  own  part,  and  envy  none. 

Folkestone,  20,  is.  1889.  J.  W.  EBSWORTH. 


6roup  of  CuptD  Ballad 

Cupto'gs  SDeltggt,  ant»  Canton  Milt$* 

{Unique  Ballads  of  Price.) 

"  CUPID,  thou  art  a  sluggish  boy,  and  dost  neglect  thy  calling  ; 
Thy  bow  and  arrows  are  a  toy ;  thy  monarchy  is  falling. 

Unless  thou  dost  recall  thy  self,  and  take  thy  tools  about  thee, 
Thou  wilt  be  scorn'd  by  every  elf,  and  all  the  world  will  flout  thee. 

"  Rouse  up  thy  spirit  like  a  God,  and  play  the  archer  finely  ; 
Let  none  escape  thy  shaft  or  rod,  'against  thee  have  spoke  unkindly  : 
So  may'st  thou  chance  to  plague  that  heart 
That  cruelly  hath  made  me  smart." 

— (1658.)     A.  H.  Bullen's  Speculum  Amantis,  p.  42. 

TJPID  has  had  little  to  do  with  the  preceding 
"  Group  of  Trades  and  Sports,"  but  shows 
less  connection  with  the  "Matrimonial  and 
Anti-Matrimonial  Ballads"  to  which  we  are 
drawing  near :  Hymen  being  seldom  on  friendly- 
terms  with  Eros,  although  originally  under 
some  obligation  to  him.  Amends  are  due  to 
the  lad,  who  is  allowed  to  claim  his  innings, 
in  a  few  pages  between  the  sheets  G  and  K. 
(He  was  heard  to  chuckle,  and  to  insinuate  that 
he  has  been  accustomed  to  disport  himself  when 
"  between  the  sheets  " ;  but  since  nobody  under  the  rank  of  an 
Archdeacon  or  a  Little  Moore  can  understand  what  this  implies, 
such  remarks  of  the  Hon.  Member  were  inaudible  in  the  Girlery.) 

Laurence  Price  has  been  often  mentioned  in  previous  volumes  of 
the  series  (see  two  lists  of  his  ballads,  one  in  Bagford  Ballads,  pp. 
263-266,  and  additions  to  it,  in  Roxb.  Ballads,  vol.  vi.  p.  64  ;  several 
of  his  ballads  are  in  the  same  volume  on  pp.  67,  73,  105,  429, 
567,  and  p.  786).  He  gives  three,  if  not  four,  of  the  five  unique 
Cupid  ditties,  viz.  "Cupid's  Wanton  Wiles;"  "The  Dainty 
Damsel's  Dream;  "  and  "  The  Maid's  Revenge  upon  Cupid." 

To  the  first  of  these  is  assigned  as  tune,  She  cannot  keep  her  legs  together 
(compare  Roxb.  Bds.  i.  295,  "  The  Discontented  Married  Man,"  beginning, 
"  A  young  man  lately  married  was  ;  "  printed  for  Richard  Harper  in  Smith-field, 
1635-42,  with  the  woodcut  given  ou  our  p.  49). 

Laurence  Price's  second  ballad,  "  The  Dainty  Damsel's  Dream,"  seems  to 
have  had  its  own  tune,  or  one  resembling  it  by  name  from  first  line.  "  The  Maid's 
Revenge  against  Cupid  and  Venus,"  p.  104,  was  sung  to  the  tune  of  Love's  Tide. 
The  ballad  so  named  was  mentioned  in  vol.  vi.  pp.  567, 570,  and  the  original  song 
was  given  there  on  p.  774  ;  entitled  "  Love  in  a  Caliue,"  beginning"  How  cool 
and  temperate  am  I  grown  !  "  Tunes  assigned  to  it  are,  Wert  thou  much  fairer 
than  thou  art,  or  Lustg  Bacchus.     For  Flora's  Farewell,  see  vol.  vi.  p.  105. 

VOL.    VII. 



[Roxburghe  Collection,  IV.  9.     Probably  unique.] 

Ctipitr.s  Delig&t; 

©r,  <ZCf)e  <2T$rra  gattnjj  Eo&crs  hxovVti  m  3Lofac. 

This  Young-man  met  his  Lover  on  a  Do;/, 
And  desired  her  a  ivhile  with  him  to  stay  ; 
The  Maid  was  civil  and  did  not  deny 
That  she  might  hear  the  Young-man's  kind  reply. 
The  Young-man  desir'd  her  for  to  be  so  kind, 
That  lie  might  understand  part  of  her  mind  ; 

The  Maid  with  honesty,  upon  my  life. 

Did  yield  to  be  his  laivful  Married  Wife. 

The  Tune  is,  If  the  Door  is  lock'd  where  I  have  knocked  ;  Or,  The  Valiant 

Trooper.     [Vide  p.  99.] 

THere  was  two  Lovers  that  met  together,  all  at  a  place  where  there  was  a  Well ; 
And  there  the  Young-man  to  his  Lover,  spoke  to  the  Maiden  to  try  his  skill  ; 
"  Sweet-heart,  if  you  will  be  pleas'd  to  go  to  drink  a  Pint  of  Wine,  if  I  may  be 

so  bold, 
Pie  not  change  my  old  love  for  a  new,  for  a  Girl  that  icears  a  Gown  of  Gold. 

"  0  little  Cupid,  be  thou  but  friendly,  to  help  me  forward  with  this  my  suit ; 
That  my  Love  to  me  she  may  speak  kindly,  now  we're  met  together,  and  I  am  put  to't : 
For  pretty  Peggy,  my  love  is  to  thee,  if  I  may  speak  and  be  so  bold  ; 
Vie  not  change  \_my  old  love  for  a  new'],  etc.  16 

"  Thou  art  so  neat  in  every  part,  and  so  beautiful  unto  my  eye, 
My  pretty  Peg,  thou  hast  stol'n  my  heart,  I  can  keep  no  other  company  : 
Thou  art  so  fair  without  compare,  thou  art  not  too  young,  nor  yet  too  old, 
Vie  not  change  [my  old  love  for  a  new],  etc. 

"  If  e'er  a  Phenix  that  there  be,  my  pretty  Peggy  she  is  one  ;  [Cf  p.  42. 

If  thou  and  I  can  hut  agree,  I'le  be  to  thee  a  loving  Man ; 

Thou  shalt  not  want  for  any  thing  that  can  be  got,  or  for  Money  sold  ; 

I'le  not  change  my  old  love  for  a  new,  for  a  Girl  that  wears  a  Gown  of  Gold.      32 

"  She  is  of  such  a  civil  Carriage,  there  is  but  few  with  her  may  compare, 
I  long  that  we  were  joyned  in  Marriage,  my  little  Peggy  thou  art  my  dear  ; 
Thou  shalt  wear  silks,  my  pritty  Girl,  or  anything  that's  for  money  sold, 
I'le  not  change  [my  old  love  for  a  new],  etc. 

"  0  pritty  Peggy,  before  we  part,  resolve  me  quickly  then  off  or  on, 

I  am  so  Love-sick  at  my  heart,  and  none  can  cure  me  but  thee  alone  : 

Thou  art  the  Maid  that  must  save  my  life,  or  I  shall  dye  before  I'm  old, 

I'le  not  change  [my  old  love  for  a  new],  etc.  48 

QTfje  fHafocn'0  Erplrj. 

"  TNdeed,  sweet  Sir,  I  was  much  to  blame,  if  I  should  wrong  my  Love,  I  say, 

_L     I  never  more  should  own  my  name,  for  my  love  to  cast  a  man  away : 
I  will  not  tarry,  but  with  you  Lie  Marry,  chear  up,  my  dear  love,  with  courage  bold, 
Vie  be  your  true  Love,  look  for  no  new  Love,  what  care  we  for  a  Gown  of  Gold  ? 

"  True  love  is  better  than  Gold  or  Treasure,  if  you  to  me  will  but  say  and  hold, 
A  good  husband  is  a  Woman's  pleasure,  there  is  no  comfort  like  that  I'm  told. 
I  will  love  thee  till  the  day  of  death,  and  make  much  of  you  when  you  are  old, 
I'le  be  your  true  love,  look  for  no  new  love,  what  care  we  for  a  Gown  of  Gold?  56 

Cupid's  Delight.  99 

Then  the  young-man  was  very  pleasant,  when  he  heard  the  Maiden's  kind  Reply, 
True  love  is  never  out  of  season,  with  them  that  useth  constancy  : 
Then  he  kist  her  sweetly,  and  compleatly,  and  made  up  the  bargain,  I  was  told, 
He  chang'd  not  his  true  love,  for  a  neiv  love,  for  a  Girl  that  wears  a  Crown  of  Gold. 

Now  to  conclude,  and  make  an  end,  so  lovingly  they  did  agree, 
He  made  her  his  Wife  and  his  bosom  friend,  and  a  gallant  couple  they  were  to  see : 
She  did  not  deny  him,  but  for  to  try  him,  it's  a  custom  that  all  Maids  do  hold, 
He  had  his  old  love,  he  needs  no  new  love,  God  send  her  not  to  prove  a  Scold.       64 

JFl'tUS.       [Perhaps  by  Laurence  Price,  see  p.  105.] 

Printed  for  J.  Beacon,  at  the  sign  of  the  Angel  in  Guilt-spur- Street  without 


[In  Black-letter.  Four  woodcuts:  1st,  an  early  'salutation  of  the  B.Y.  Mary 
by  Elizabeth,'  reserved  for  '  Religious  Group  ; '  2nd,  the  Cavalier  of  p.  140  ; 
3rd,  the  Lady  with  pinners,  as  on  p.  162  ;  4th,  the  circular  Robin  Hood  cut  of 
vi.  229.     Date,  circa  1683.     In  original,  line  57  reads,  "he  was  very."] 

*#*  Tunes  assigned  to  Cupid's  Delight. 

To  our  regret,  the  ballad  that  had  originated  by  first  line  or  burden  the  tune- 
name  of  If  the  Boor  is  lock'd  ivhere  I  have  knock* d  has  not  yet  been  found. 
Therefore  it  is  doubtful  whether  it  be  a  different  tune  from  The  Valiant  Trooper, 
or  merely  another  name  for  it.  A  unique  exemplar  of  the  ballad  entitled  "  The 
Valiant  Trooper  and  Pretty  Peggy,"  signed  by  T.R.  (whom  we  guess  to  be 
Thomas  Robins,  remodeller  of  various  other  ballads,  nearly  every  one  thus  signed 
being  of  doubtful  authorship),  is  in  Pepys  Collection,  IV.  40,  and  begins,  "Heard 
you  not  of  a  valiant  Trooper?"  Printed  for  W.  Thackeray,  T.  Passenger,  and 
W.  Whitwood,  it  has  assigned  to  it  the  tune  of  Though  I  live  not  where  I  love, 
wbich  indicates  the  burden  of  Laurence  Price's  ballad  of  "  The  Constant  Lover," 
reprinted  in  Bnxburghe  Ballads,  vol.  i.  p.  213,  and  marked  to  the  tune  of,  Shall 
the  absence  of  my  Mistress  :  properly.  Must  the  absence  of  my  Mistress,  already 
mentioned  as  a  tune  of  "  The  Ragman,"  on  p.  77.  An  earlier  "  Peerless  Peggy  ; 
or,  The  Fortunate  Youn?  Man,"  was  entered  to  Francis  Grove  in  Registers  of  the 
Stationers'  Company,  5th  April,  1633.     T.R.'s  version  begins  thus  : — 

Heard  you  not  of  a  valiant  Trooper  that  had  his  pockets  well  lin'd  with  gold  ? 
He  was  in  love  with  a  gallant  Lady,  as  I  to  you  shall  here  unfold. 
With  a  kind  salute  and  fierce  dispute,  he  thought  to  make  her  his  only  one  ; 
But  Unconstant  Woman,  true  to  no  man,  is  gone  and  ttft  her  bird  alone. 

In  Popular  Music,  p.  453,  is  a  Somersetshire  version  of  the  tune,  differing  from 
one  in  Bills  to  Purge  Melancholy,  v.  80,  "  The  "[Inconstant  Woman,"  a  ditty 
which  is  evidently  a  nautical  version  of  "  The  Valiant  Trooper,"  and  beginning, 

"  Did  you  not  hear  of  a  gallant  Sailor,  whose  pockets  they  were  lin'd  with  gold  ? 
He  fell  in  love  with  a  pretty  creature,  as  I  to  you  the  Truth  unfold  : 
With  a  kind  Salute,  and  without  dispute,  he  thought  to  gain  her  for  his  own  : 
Unconstant  Woman  proves  true  to  no  man  ;  She  has  gone  and  left  me  all  alone.'1'' 

It  will  be  noticed  that  "  Cupid's  Delight  "  also  is  a  "  Pretty  Peggy." 

Tunes  are  shy  game,  and  lead  us  many  a  long  run  like  the  fox  of  the  Cleaveland 
Hunt,  recorded  on  our  p.  95.  But  we  generally  manage  to  be  in  at  the  death,  as 
the  hounds  were  (suggestively  named)  at  Hinderwell.  Thus  on  p.  32  it  was 
supposed  tbaf  My  Child  must  have  a  Father  remained  without  identification. 
But  the  tune  agrees  with  that  of  The  Mother  beguiled  the  Daughter,  and  draws 
its  later  name  from  a  line  in  final  stanza  of  a  ballad,  given  on  p.  161,  "  The  Kind- 
hearted  Creature,"  beginning,  "All  you  that  are  disposed  now."  It  was  written 
by  Richard  Crimsall,  and  registered,  to  Francis  Conies  and  partners,  24  June,  1630. 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  III.  172.     Probably  Unique.] 

CupiD'S  OUanton  WLiltS; 


Tbe  Young  Man's  friendly  Advice,  beware  lest  Cupid  you  entice : 
Although  God  Cupid  he  be  blind,  yet  he  doth  oft  o'recome  the  mind. 

To  the  tune  of,   Shee  cannot  heepe  her,  etc.     [See  p.  97.") 

BLind-fold  Cupid  with  his  Dart,  did  a  long  time  strive  to  hit  me, 
Yet  he  shall  not  pierce  my  heart,  I  know  better  how  to  fit  me  ; 
His  decree  shall  not  be  any  way  to  my  disparriage : 
I  will  strive  how  to  thrive,  and  to  heepe  my  self e  from  marriage. 

Cupid" 8  slights  and  cunning  triekes  never  in  relaps  shall  bring  me, 
To  be  drowned  in  Love's  pits,  no  aspiring  boy  shall  fling  me. 
Hee's  a  foole  in  Love's  Schoole,  and  raeerc  simple  in  his  carriage, 
That  will  dally,  and  say,  Shall  I  now  incline  to  wanton  marriage  ? 

Cupid  is  a  subtill  wile,  and  hath  many  projects  used,  17 

The  ripest  wits  for  to  beguile,  many  are  by  him  abused  : 
Let  no  man  trust  him  then,  lest  he  doe  their  states  disparriage, 
I  advise  you  to  be  wise,  and  keep  your  selves  from  wanton  marriage. 

To  spcake  of  Cupid  to  the  matter,  as  I  intend,  if  time  gives  leasure  : 
He  will  cog,  deceive  and  flatter,  if  you  in  his  wayes  take  pleasure ; 
He  will  make  you  to  take  such  strange  courses  in  your  carriage  : 
"Which  will  be  your  misery,  if  you  incline  to  wanton  marriage.       32 

Cupid's   Wanton    Wiles.  101 

Cupid  is  become  a  Gallant,  and  -will  tempt  a  brave  young  Shaver, 
On  fond  love  to  spend  his  talent,  and  besides,  a  false  deceiver 
He  is  [then]  when  foolish  men  doth  intend  to  change  their  carriage, 
For  we  see  often  he  crosses  young  men  in  their  marriage. 

The  stoutest  Champion  Cupid  <\.a.nteth.,  &  doth  bring  the  boldest  under: 
The  meanest  man  he  then  advanceth,  and,  to  fill  us  more  with  wonder, 
He  can  move  Maids  to  love,  though  nere  so  modest  in  their  carriage, 
And  will  vexe  [the]  Female  sexe  to  bestow  themselves  in  marriage. 

2Che  5f>£cono  IP  art,  To  the  same  Tune. 

NOble  Lords,  Kings  and  Princes,  Cupid  bound  in  his  subjection; 
Beauteous  Ladies  he  convinces,  they  must  yeeld  to  his  direction ; 
He  will  still  use  his  skill,  though  it  breeds  a  great  disparridge, 
Therefore  I,  till  I  dye,  meane  to  keepe  my  self e  from  marriage. 

Guy  of  WarwicJce,  brave  and  bold,  travel'd  far  to  gain  his  Philice  : 
Cupid  kept  his  heart  in  hold ;  Hector,  though  he  met  Achilles, 
Cupid  prest,  with  the  rest,  this  stout  Captain e  in  his  carrydge  ; 
Thus  he  can  force  each  man  to  bestow  him  selfe  in  marriage.  64 

Some  Cupid  takes  at  unawares,  in  the  bed  where  they  lye  sleeping ; 
Some  he  catcheth  in  his  snares,  as  they  on  downes  their  flocks  are 
[keep]ing:  [*«*,«  feeding.' 

Every  sort,  Clowne  and  Court,  stoops  to  Cupid  in  his  carryage, 
No  delay  can  him  stay,  if  he  appoint  the  time  of  marriage. 

High  &  low,  poore  &  rich  men,  strong,  the  weake,  the  simple  creature  : 
If  Cupid's  Arrowes  doe  but  twitch  them,  &  they  bridle  not  his  nature, 
It  will  grow  great  in  show,  therefore  I  .wish  men  in  carrydge, 
To  prevent  this  torment,  and  looke  before  they  leape  to  marriage.     80 

If  thou  art  old,  be  more  wiser,  let  no  blind  God  so  deceive  thee : 
Learne  this  embleme  of  a  Siser,  lest  Cupid  doe  of  joyes  bereave  thee  : 
If  thou  beest  young,  doe  not  wrong  thine  own  state  in  such  a  carrydge : 
Have  a  care,  and  beware,  lest  thou  repent  thy  hasty  marriage. 

Now  to  finish  and  conclude,  I  exhort  all  that  are  single, 

In  your  chusing  be  not  rude,  when  you  doe  with  Hymen  mingle. 

Liberty,  as  we  see,  is  a  life  of  lovely  carrydge, 

Therefore  I,  till  I  die,  will  absent  my  selfe  from  marriage.  96 

Jfnt's.  L[aurence]  P[rice]. 

Printed  at  London  for  John  Wright  the  Younger,  dwelling  in  the 


[In  Black-letter.      Three  woodcuts.      1st,  man,  i.  466  ;    2nd,  woman,  i.  590  ; 
3rd,  on  p.  172  ;  another  is  added  on  p.  100,  for  p.  105.    Date,  circa  1641-1655.] 

To  the  same  tune  of,  Shee  cannot  keepe,  etc.,  was  sung  "The  Contented 
Cuckold  ;  or,  Patience  upon  Force,"  etc.,  by  T.R.  [Thomas  Robins  ?],  in  the  Huth 
Coll.,  I.  35,  Jersey,  II.  296,  beginning,  "  You  young  men  all  to  you  I  call." 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  III.  226.     Probably  unique.] 

Ci)e  tiatntp  ZDamstVs  2E>reatn, 

CupiO'0  saigtons* 

The  Maid  saw  such  strange  Visions  in  her  sleep, 
When  she  awak'd  it  forc'd  her  for  to  weep  ; 
She  dreaming  lay,  and  thought  her  Love  lay  by, 
But  he,  alas  !  was  not  at  that  time  nigh. 

Then  list  and  you  shall  heare  the  Damsel's  Dream, 

And  afterwards  what  followed  the  same. 

To  the  tune  of,  As  she  lay  sleeping  in  her  led.     [See  p.  10.3.] 

AS  I  lay  on  my  lovely  bed,  I  fell  into  a  dream,         tsic-  i-  =  lonely ? 
God  Cupid  lie  attended  me,  and  straight  upon  the  same, 
The  Chamber  where  I  lodged  in,  me-thought,  was  all  on  fire, 
Then  Mars  and  Jupiter  came  in,  with  wrath  and  furious  ire. 

After  came  Venus  with  her  train  of  Nimphs  most  fair  and  bright, 
And  prickt  my  heart  in  every  vein,  much  like  to  kill  me  quite  ; 
I  knew  no  reason  why  their  rage  and  anger  should  be  so, 
"  Why  then,"  quoth  Venus,  "  to  thy  selfe,  thou  art  a  mortall  foe. 

"  There  is  a  young  man  loves  thee  dear,  and  now  is  like  to  dye, 
Because  for  him  thou  dost  not  care ;  that  is  the  reason  why, 
That  thou  art  punished  so  sore,  here  in  thy  naked  bed, 
And  if  thou  wilt  not  yeeld  to  love,  we  mean  to  kill  thee  dead."    24 

"  Fair  Queen,"  quoth  I,  "  grant  me  this  boon  I  may  so  happy  be, 

For  to  present  him  to  my  view  that  I  the  man  may  see  : 

And  if  that  I  can  fancy  him,  there  is  no  more  to  do, 

But  I  will  yeeld  to  be  his  love,  and  kisse  and  hug  him  too." 

With  that  the  flames  all  quenched  was,  and  all  the  coasts  was  cleare, 

And  then  a  proper  hansom  youth  did  in  my  sight  appeare ; 

Like  young  Adonis  in  his  prime  this  gallant  seem'd  to  be, 

Of  courage  bold,  and  valour  brave,  and  fortitude,  was  he.  40 

Wi)t  S'cconti  ^art,  To  the  same  Tune. 

His  face  like  to  an  Angel's  was,  his  eyes  like  starrs  did  shine, 
In  every  part  from  top  to  toe,  he  seemed  a  Saint  divine, 
His  sweet  perfumed  honied  breath  did  bear  so  rare  a  smell, 
The  richest  odors  in  the  world  for  s[c]ent  it  did  excell. 

With  courtely  words  and  compliments  he  did  mee  kindly  greet, 
Crossing  my  lips  ten  thousand  times  with  kisses  soft  and  sweet  ; 
In  his  right  hand  a  purse  of  gold  he  had,  and  did  me  give, 
And  told  me  I  should  never  want  such  Coyn  whitest  I  did  live. 

The  Dainty  Damsel's  Dream. 


It  ravished  my  senses  all,  and  set  my  heart  on  fire, 

His  countenance  for  to  behold  it  made  me  to  admire  !         [  =  wonder. 

So  that  I  much  desired  then  to  have  his  company, 

His  comely  person  to  imbrace  as  I  in  bed  did  lie.  64 

His  hose  and  doublet  he  stript  on0,  and  came  into  my  bed, 
Saying  that  he  must  master  be,  and  have  my  maiden-head ; 
Good  lack  !  how  willing  then  was  I  his  love  to  entertain  : 
The  thought  of  action  moved  me  in  every  limb  and  vein. 

When  all  my  vitals  thus  were  rais'd,  and  ready  for  the  sport, 
Cupid  and  Venus  stole  away  and  so  broke  up  the  [Court],      ['sport.' 
Even  so  departed  all  the  Kim  phs,  and  straight  upon  the  same 
I  wak'd  and  wept,  because  I  saw  all  things  was  but  a  dream.       80 

Fie  upon  dreams,  and  fond  delights,  which  thus  disturbs  the  mind ! 
'Tis  better  for  to  bee  awak'd,  and  exercise  by  kind. 
When  as  I  dream'd,  I  had  a  love,  and  gold,  and  pleasure  store  ; 
But  when  I  wak'd,  I  saw  none  such,  which  makes  me  grieve  the  more. 

Jftma.  L[aurence]  P[rice]. 

London,  Printed  for  John  Andrews,  at  the  White-Lyon,  in  Pye-corner. 

[Black-letter.   Three  woodcuts.    1st,  the  ?<«mutilated  oval  portrait  of  John,  Lord 

Finch,  with  wings,  from  '  Time  Alteration,''  8  Janu.,  164°,  pamphlet,  in  allusion 

to  his  flight,  after  Sec.  "Windebank's,  Dec,  1640.    2nd,  the  woman  with  fan,  as  in 

vi.  685,  left.     3rd,  a  new  cut  of  a  damsel  sleeping  on  her  bed,  while  Cupid 

shows  a  vision  of  an  armed  warrior.   Date  of  first  issue,  probably  circu  1654.] 

*#*  The  tune-name  appears  to  be  merely  a  variation  of  the  first  line  :  we 

know  none  resembling  it :  except  the  Drollery,  "  She  lay  all  naked  in  her  bed." 

Seeing  that  Laurence  Price  wrote  this  "Maiden's  Dream,"  and  sympathized 

with  her  in  the  disappointment  (as  Madame  Aphra  Behn,  and  also  John  Wilmot, 

Earl  of  Rochester,  still  later  expatiated  on  the  same  theme,  with  more  warmth 

than  delicacy),  it  is  not  improbable  that  he  had  designed  as  a  sort  of  sequel, 

although  to  a  different  tune,  "  The  Maid's  Revenge  against  Cupid  and  Venus." 

Little  change  of  mood  was  necessary,  before  the  girl  who  believed  that  Venus  had 

punished  her  for  resisting  Love,  could  arm  her  tongue  to  proclaim  revenge  against 

the  Goddess  who  had  cheated  her,  and  taken  this  "  unreal  mockery  hence  !  " 

[This  woodcut  belongs  to  pp.  81  and  191.] 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  III.  222.     Trobably  Unique.] 

Cl)e  09attfs  i&etoencje  upon  Cupid 

an&  Venus. 

Shewing  bow  Cupid  with  bis  dart 

Did  wound  and  almost  kill  ber  beart  ; 

But  sbe,  recovering  of  ber  pain, 

Reveng'd  her  self  on  him  again : 

And  how  Vulcan  the  Black- Smith  he  did  prove 

False  to  the  Lass  that  did  him  love ; 

And  many  other  matters  rare 

Within  this  ditty  spoken  of  are. 

To  the  tune  of,  Love' 's  Tyde,  or,  Flora  Fareivel.     [See  p.  97.] 

YOu  Maids  &  Widows  all  a  row,  my  mind  I'de  have  you  for  to  know, 
How  Cupid  he  hath  conquered  me,  and  crost  me  in  my  jolity  ; 
I  was  a  Damsel  fair  and  "bright,  that  was  beloved  of  many  a  wight, 
But  afterwards  it  made  me  rue,  to  see  that  men  prove  so  untrue. 

When  I  was  fifteen  years  of  age,  came  Cupid  in  a  fiery  rage, 

And  with  his  poysoned  wounding  dart,  shot  through  my  skin,  and 

pierct  my  heart, 
And  having  toucht  me  to  the  quick,  I  thereupon  fell  dangerous  sick, 
And  ever  since  that  time  I  rue  to  see  that  young  men  proves  untrue. 

Then  Su[i]ters  every  day  I  had,  to  comfort  me,  and  make  me  glad, 
I  entertain'd  them  willingly,  in  hope  to  have  a  remedy ; 
First  came  a  Taylor  fine  and  brave,  who  proved  at  last  a  cunning  knave, 
He  for  to  win  my  love  did  sue,  whose  flattering  tongue  did  make  me  rue. 

He  dipt,  he  kist,  he  courted  me,  and  said  he  would  my  husband  be, 
He  gave  to  me  a  gay  gold  ring  in  hope  to  have  a  better  thing ; 
He  would  have  had  my  Maiden-head,  before  that  I  to  him  was  wed  : 
And  had  not  I  been  very  wise,  the  knave  had  plaid  his  Master  prize. 

A  bonny  Weaver  he  came  next,  to  ease  my  mind  that  was  perplext ; 
With  complements  he  did  me  greet,  and  honey  sugered  kisses  sweet, 
Perfumed  gloves,  and  ribbons  brave,  as  tokens  of  his  love  he  gave : 
And  for  to  speak  of  him  the  truth,  he  was  a  very  comely  youth. 

He  wooed  me,  and  I  gave  consent,  to  be  his  wife  was  my  intent, 
But  cruel  death  did  end  his  life,  before  that  I  was  made  his  wife. 
0  had  he  lived,  I  had  been  blest,  but  being  dead  I  am  distrest. 
/  must  go  seek  a  lover  new,  which  ivas  the  thing  that  made  me  rue. 

fflqz  Stxcmo  :Part,  To  tee  same  Ttjne. 

A  Glover  he  came  next  of  all,  a  proper  man  both  streight  and  tall, 
And  said  that  I  should  be  his  bride,  what  fortune  ever  did  betide  ; 
But  like  a  false  dissembler  he  forswore  himself,  and  forsook  me  : 
Which  made  my  heart  to  melt  and  rue  to  see  false  men  prove  so  untrue. 

The  Maid's  Revenge  upon   Cupid  and   Venus.  .      105 

Vulcan,  the  Black-Smith,  that  hoon  blade,  counted  the  best  of  all 

his  trade  ; 
He  told  me  many  a  flu  ant  tale,  and  feasted  me  with  Cakes  and  Ale ; 
Tokens  of  love  he  did  me  give,  and  1  did  verily  beleeve 
That  he  had  been  a  lover  true  ;  but  like  a  knave  he  made  me  rue. 

"When  first  he  came  into  the  place,  he  in  his  arms  did  me  imbrace  ; 
With  solemn  oaths  he  did  protest  that  of  all  Girls  he  loved  me  best : 
But  he,  vilde  wretch  !  did  me  forsake,  another  Sweet-heart  for  to  take, 
Which  makes  me  sigh,  lament,  and  tveep,  because  some  Black-smiths  no 
faith  can  keep. 

And  since  that  he  from  me  was  gone,  sweet-hearts  I  have  had  many 

a  one; 
But  I  will  no  more  deceived  be,  by  any  such  like  knaves  as  he. 
When  young  men's  tongues  do  run  most  nimble,  their  hearts  do  most 

of  all  dissemble : 
And  like  the  Proverb  used  of  old,  '  The  hottest  love  is  soonest  cold.' 

Therefore  I'le  set  my  heart  at  rest,  a  single  life  becomes  me  best, 
No  false  dissembling  cogging  man  shall  do  me  wrong,  do  what  he  can. 
I'le  break  all  Cupid's  darts  in  twain,  &  loose  my  self  from  Venus  chain. 
Tie  make  great  Jupiter  to  thunder,  and  tear  the  C}-clops  quite  asunder. 

Great  Neptune  shall  forsake  the  Seas,  and  C\Ji\aron  in  his  boat  be 

Before  that  I,  at  any  time,  will  to  a  flattering  knave  be  bound. 
Shall  I  be  bound,  that  maybe  free?  Shall  reason  rule  my  raging  mind? 
Shall  I  love  him  that  loves  not  me  ?  No,  though  I  wink,  I  am  not  blind. 

Yet  let  no  one  my  words  mistake,  though  I  against  false  love  do  speak ; 
I  do  not  say  but  some  men  are  of  qualities  both  rich  and  rare : 
Some  men  are  honest,  sure,  and  j  ust,  faithful  to  all  that  doth  them  trust, 
Constant  in  actions,  and  in  love,  as  true  as  is  the  turtle-dove. 

When  such  a  man  I  chance  to  see,  to  him  I  fain  would  married  be, 
And  to  him  prove  a  loving  wife,  so  long  as  heaven  affords  me  iife. 
But  to  conclude,  and  end  my  song,  in  which  I  mean  no  creature  wrong, 
Young  men  and  maids,  I  speak  to  you,  change  not  an  old  love  for  a  new. 

Jim's.        L[aurence]  P[rice]. 

London,  Printed  for  Fra[ncis~]  Grove.  And  entered  according  to  Order. 

[In  Black-letter.  "With  four  woodcuts.  1st,  the  Gallant  with  cane,  vi.  33  ; 
2nd,  the  stout  woman  with  fan,  vi.  16,  right;  3rd,  the  Cupid  with  glass-house 
and  many  figures  behind  him,  as  on  p.  100  ;  4th,  the  woman  of  Amanda  Group, 
p.  480*,  but  without  the  publisher  Ri.  Jones's  initials  R.I.    Date,  circa  1655.] 

***  Note  the  coincidence  of  the  last  line  here  with  the  burden  of  "  Cupid's 
Delight."  Although  unsigned,  "Cupid's  Delight"  also  may  have  been  written 
by  the  prolific  Laurence  Price,  who  echoes  in  Shall  I  love  him  that  loves  not  me  ? 
(Cf.  p.  110,)  the  burden  of  C.  H.'s  "Fairing,"  For  I  cannot  love  if  not  loved  again. 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  239;  Douce,  I.  108;  Huth,  I.  146.] 

Who  being  jealous  that  tbe  Man  she  lov'd 
Constant  unto  another  Woman  prov'd, 
She  could  not  brook  another  should  possess 
Him  whom  she  lov'd  more  then  she  could  express : 

She  bids  him  give  her  Wealth  and  Honour,  all ; 

But  his  own  self,  him  she  her  own  must  call. 



To  a  pleasant  new  Tune,  call'd,  The  German  Princess's  Farewell,  etc. 
[See  Note  below,  and  p.  64.] 

Ong  days  of  absence,  Dear,  I  could  endure, 
If  thy  divided  heart  were  mine  secure  ; 
But  each  minute  I  find  myself  without  thee, 
Methinks  I  [feel]  my  Rival's  arms  about  thee.  [' find-' 

But  she  perhaps  her  interest  can  improve, 

By  all  the  studied  arts  of  wealth  and  love  ; 

"Whilst  I,  alas  !  poor. kind  and  harmless  Creature, 

Blung'd  in  true  patience,  trust  me  it  shews  good  nature.      8 

In  her  fair  hand  lay  silver  and  rich  gold, 
But  what  I  must  not  name  let  my  hand  hold  ; 
Give  her  rich  robes,  and  jewels  without  measure, 
Bo  but  allow  me  every  night  the  pleasure. 

I  dye  to  think  that  hapless  I  should  lose 

Those  sweet  imbraces  no  one  can  refuse  ; 

Yet  dare  I  not  for  shame  my  flames  discover, 

I  dread  the  name  of  '  Boor  Forsaken  Lover.'  16 

If  she  have  wit  and  beauty,  charms  of  love, 
Some  think  I  have  the  same,  and  those  will  move  ; 
If  she  can  smile,  and  kiss,  and  cling  about  you, 
All  these  I'll  do  before  I'll  go  without  you. 

0  let  not  all  my  Bivals  laugh  and  say, 

1  am  become  a  silly  Cast-away ; 
Though  all  are  bound  to  pay  you  wealth  and  honour, 
It  all  comes  short  of  what  you  lay  upon  her.  24 

I'll  force  my  soul,  and  summon  all  my  charms, 
E'er  any  She  shall  lye  within  your  arms ; 
Except  I  found  decay's  in  every  feature, 
Or  that  old  age  had  spoil'd  the  works  of  Nature. 

"The  Kind  Mistress"  deserves  immediate  attention,  since  the  tune  is  The 
German  Princess's  Farewell  (rf.  p.  64).  Another  "  Kind  Mistress,"  printed  for 
C.  Barnet,  begins,  "  As  I  was  walking  along  the  street"  (Pepys  Coll.,  V.  212). 

The  Kind  Mistress.  107 

Oh  !  oh  !  my  Dear,  where  art,  where  art  thou  now  ? 

Hear  my  sweet  call,  and  hearken  to  my  vow  ! 

"What  tho'  you  love  her,  yet  you  ought  to  leave  her, 

I  vow  my  heart  shall  be  thine  own  for  ever.  32 

I'll  act  such  things,  I'll  laugh,  and  dance,  and  sing, 
I'll  hug  and  kiss,  and  love  like  any  thing  ; 
Then  change  me  not,  till  I  can  do  no  longer, 
I'll  use  a  means  to  make  my  spirits  stronger. 

But  if  she  must  have  interest  in  your  heart, 

Dear  Love,  let  it  be  but  the  weaker  part ; 

Or  if  she  once  enjoys  a  greater  blessing, 

You  know  my  thoughts  without  the  words  expressing.       40 

Should  I  be  left  by  you,  and  quite  forlorn, 
All  other  objects  my  proud  heart  would  scorn  ; 
But  if  you  still  persist  and  will  not  mind  me, 
I'll  mourn  to  death  and  leave  her  here  behind  me. 

When  Death  hath  done  its  worst,  and  I  am  cold, 

'Twill  force  a  sigh  when  you  such  clay  behold  ; 

Alas  !  too  late  you'll  with  your  Friends  lament  me, 

But  when  I  was  alive  you'd  not  content  me.  48 

Licens'd  and  Enter'd  according  to  Order. 

[Colophon  cut  off  by  binder.     Douce  and  Huth's  printed  at  London  for  C.  Brown 

and  T.  Norria.     Black-letter,  with  two  woodcuts  as  on  p.  42.     Date,  1673.] 
*#*  The  '  Answer  '  to  this  is  not  in  the  Roxburghe  Collection,  but  is  given  here. 

[Wood's  Coll.,  E.  25,  fol.  80  ;  Douce,  II.  162  verso  ;  C.  22.  c.  2,  fol.  156.] 

€f)e  JftoMe  Gallant; 

<Bx,  Sin  &nsrner  to  3Long  ©ans  of  Absence. 

He  all  those  jealous  Doubts  of  hers  removes, 

And  now  unto  this  fair  one  constant  proves. 

He  tells  her  he  is  hers,  none  shall  possess 

Him,  but  her  self,  such  love  he  doth  express ; 

He  gives  her  all  content  that  can  be  spoken, 

And  chears  her  heart,  which  once  was  almost  broken  ; 

"What  e're  she  asks  she  has,  Beauty  rules  all, 

It  can  a  Lover's  heart  make  rise  or  fall. 

To  a  pleasant  new  tune,  called,  The  German  Princesses  Farewell  [p.  64]. 

THink  not,  my  Dear,  thou  shalt  be  absent  long, 
1\1  y  heart  to  thine  is  ty'd  most  firm  and  strong. 
None  of  thy  Rivals  ever  shall  out-do  thee, 
They  are  not  fit  to  be  compar'd  unto  thee. 

What  need  I  care  for  wealth,  it  is  but  dross  ? 

Want  of  a  Beauty  is  a  greater  loss  ; 

Though  constancy  with  men  is  out  of  fashion, 

A  Woman  ought  in  love  to  show  true  passion.  8 

108     Noble  Gallant's  Answer  to  'Lone;  Days  of  Absence.'' 

Perhaps  with  others  I  may  sport  and  play, 
But  what  thou  long'st  for  I'le  not  give  away  ; 
Thou  shalt  have  all  the  pleasure  I  can  give  thee, 
Then  fear  me  not,  for  1  will  never  leave  thee. 

Thou  shalt  not  loose  one  smile  ;  what  I  can  grant, 

W  y  pretty  wanton,  thou  shalt  never  want ; 

Thy  flames  I  own,  and  dying  will  imhrace  thee, 

The  Willow  Garland  never  shall  disgrace  thee.  16 

If  all  the  World  should  dare  to  laugh,  and  say 
IVIy  mind  on  beauty  often  goes  astray ; 
Yet  she  that  willingly  affords  me  pleasure, 
Shall  have  at  her  command  a  Mint  of  treasure. 

I  know  for  wit  and  beauty  ne'r  a  Lass 

In  all  the  world  my  dearest  can  surpass  ; 

One  kiss,  one  smile,  one  hug,  I  then  am  dying, 

Ask  what  thou  wilt,  there  can  be  no  denying.  24 

Thou  need'st  not  force  thy  soul,  for  thou  hast  charms 
Are  able  to  resist  cold  death's  alarms : 
There  can  be  no  decay  in  thee,  I  am  sure, 
Nature's  rare  works  for  ages  must  endure. 

Thy  vows  I  hear,  thou  art  my  heart's  delight, 

I  find  no  joy  but  when  I  am  in  thy  sight ; 

And  this  thou  shalt  assure  thy  self,  I  love  thee, 

No  woman  in  my  heart  shall  rule  above  thee.  32 

I  know  that  thou  art  brisk,  merry  and  young, 

Thou  can'st  strike  dead  with  thy  all-charming  tongue ; 

If  that  to  dance  or  sing  thou  dost  desire, 

All  flesh  is  dumb,  and  silently  admire. 

I'le  rest  content  with  thee,  and  never  more 

Strange  faces,  nor  proud  looks,  will  I  adore ; 

Be  true  to  me,  and  all  things  I'le  do  for  thee, 

But  if  unkind  and  false,  then  I'le  abhor  thee.  40 

When  I  behold  those  pretty  wanton  eyes, 

The  thoughts  of  any  other  I  despise  : 

Then  be  not  jealous,  for  I'le  always  mind  thee, 

I'le  catch  thee  in  my  arms  where  e're  I  find  thee. 

Talk  not  of  Death,  thou  art  not  born  to  dye, 

He'l  court  thee  when  he  doth  that  face  espy : 

Come  kiss  me  now,  my  dear,  and  don't  repent  thee, 

For  [married]  every  night  I  will  content  thee.  48 

[Print]ed  for  J.E.  and  sold  by  F.  Coles,  T.  Yere,  I.  Wright,  and  /.  Clarice. 

[In  Black-letter.  Four  woodcuts.  1st,  the  lunette  of  Prince  Henry  in  armour, 
with  staff,  as  in  vi.  66 ;  2nd,  an  equally  early  portrait  of  a  Princess,  temp. 
Jac.  I.,  in  a  high  ruff,  probably  meant  for  James  I.'s  daughter,  the  Princess 
Elizabeth  of  Bohemia  ;  3rd,  Queen  Elizabeth  as  in  vol.  i.  p.  466  ;  4th,  the  youth, 
vi.  50.  Text  reads  'naked.'  Date,  as  shown  by  Tune,  after  1672,  before  1682.] 
*#*  Later  we  give  the  original  three  stanzas  of  next  ballad   (to  which  Charles 

Taylor  composed  the  music),  beginning,  "  You  I  love,  by  all  that's  true"  (see 

]).  110) ;  printed  for  Playford,  in  Playford's  Choice  Ayres,  iv.  53,  1683  ;  in  180 

Loyal  Songs,  p.  321,  1685,  and  Fills,  v.  336. 


[Roxb.  Coll., 11.288;  PepysJII.  334;  Euing,  168;  Douce,I.117;  Jersey,  1.77.] 

%))t  JLonDon  3Ut>'0  JLamentattoit 

to  Cupid ;  or,  Mbm  ggall  3  mp  CcuMlo&e  gaue  ? 

All  young-men  must  to  Cupid's  power  submit, 
Courage  and  Wisdom,  Vertue  too,  and  Wit  : 
None  can  bis  mighty  power  and  charms  withstand, 
He,  like  young  Beauty,  always  will  command  : 
And  here  young  maidens  easily  may  find 
How  apt  young  men  are  to  be  true  and  kind. 
Such  constancy  in  them  could  scarce  be  found, 
Should  men  go  search  the  Universe  all  round. 

To  an  Excellent  New  Tune,  sung  at  the  Court.    [SeeJVote,  p.  108.] 

This  may  be  Printed,  E,[ichard]  P[ocock]. 

f^Loe's  Face  is  Heav'n  to  me,  like  the  morning-light  we  see ; 

And  the  beauty  of  her  eye,  bright  and  lovely,  like  the  sky : 
Cloe,  since  my  Heav'n  thou  art,  ease  and  cure  my  wounded  heart. 

"Will  young  Love  a  Tyrant  be  ?  make  me  doat  on  Cruelty : 
"Why  doth  sullen  Fate  confine  me  to  one  that  is  not  mine  ? 
Cloe,  since  my  Heart n  thou  art,  ease  and  cure  my  wounded  heart.     12 

Had  I  lov'd  as  others  do,  onely  for  an  hour  or  two, 

Then  there  had  a  reason  bin  I  should  suffer  for  my  sin  : 

Cloe,  since  my  Heav'n  thou  art,  ease  and  cure  my  wounded  heart. 

Love  (thou  know'st)  with  what  a  flame,  I  adore  young  doe's  name  : 
Let  me  then  thy  pitty  find,  shoot  a  Dart  and  change  her  mind : 
Cloe,  since  my  Heav'n  thou  art,  ease  and  cure  my  tvounded  heart.     24 

All  her  beauties  do  entice,  though  the  nymph  be  cold  as  ice, 
R'>sie-lips  and  lilly-skin,  all  we  gaze  on,  charm  and  win  : 
Cloe,  since  my  Heav'n  thou  art,  ease  and  cure  my  zoounded  heart. 

On  her  gentle  downy  breast  let  a  sighing  lover  rest, 

Twin'd  within  those  tender  arms,  fetter'd  by  those  pleasing  charms  : 

Cloe,  since  my  Heav'n  thou  art.  ease  and  cure  my  wounded  heart.     36 

LH  my  love  with  joys  be  crown'd ;  you  that  with  a  glance  can  wound, 
"With  a  melting  kiss  restore,  your  young  Love  that  sigh'd  before  : 
Cloe,  since  my  Heav'n  thou  art,  ease  and  cure  my  wounded  heart. 

Thus  you'l  show  your  power  and  skill,  able  both  to  save  and  kill, 

But  to  kill  has  always  bin  held  a  most  notorious  sin  : 

Cloe,  since  my  Heav'n  thou  art,  ease  and  cure  my  wounded  heart.    48 

In  sweet  groveswe'l  always  dwell,  with  more  joys  than  tongue  can  tell, 
There  the  wanton  then  we'l  play,  steal  each  other's  heart  away  : 
Cloe,  since  my  Heav'n  thou  art,  ease  and  cure  my  wounded  heart. 

110  The  London  Lad's  Lamentation  to  Cupid. 

You  I  love  (by  Jove)  I  do,  more  then  all  things  here  below, I-?'''--"'""/ 

„..  ,  •         #   11  i        r*  r>        •    -i  \hegins  here 

With  a  passion  tiill  as  great,  as  ere  Creature  lancied  yet : 

Cloe,  since  my  JLeav'n  thou  art,  ease  and  cure  my  wounded  heart.    60 

Bid  the  miser  leave  his  ore,  bid  the  wretched  sigh  no  more  : 
Bid  the  old  be  young  again,  bid  young  maids  ne'r  think  of  men : 
Cloe,  since  my  JLeav'n  thou  art,  ease  and  cure  my  wounded  heart. 

Love's  not  a  thing  of  chance,  but  Fate,  that  makes  me  love,  that 
makes  you  hate,  \-Al-  lect->  'choice.' 

Then  if  you  be  false  or  true,  love  I  must,  and  none  but  you  : 
Cloe,  since  my  Ueav'n  thou  art,  ease  and  cure  my  wounded  heart.     72 
Printed  for  /.  Bach,  at  the  Black  Boy,  on  London  Bridge. 

[In  Black-letter.     Four  oval  woodcuts,  all  in  vol.  vi.,  1st  and  4th  on  p.  280  ; 
2nd,  Cupid,  p.  50,  left ;  3rd,  man,  p.  124,  left.   Date,  1685.   Gf.  Loyal  Songs,  321.] 

*#*  Except  in  name,  there  is  little  of  companionship  in  "  The  London  Lasse's 
Lamentation,"  beginning,  "Alas  !  I  am  in  a  rage,"  and  sung  to  the  tune  of 
[Aye],  '  /  marry  and  thank  you  too.''     See  p.  112.     It  follows  on  p.  116. 


a  Jfatring  for  gounrj  apen  anU  partis. 

Princess. — "  Sweet-hearts,  we  shall  he  rich  ere  we  depart, 

If  Fairings  come  thus  plentifully  in." — Love's  Lab.  L.,  v.  2. 

EW  rural  delights  have  suffered  decay,  or  obliteration,  almost 
total,  as  have  the  Country  Fairs,  whither  a  brisk  young  wooer 
could  escort  his  Lass,  giving  her  the  round  of  seeing  all  the  shows, 
and  purchase  for  her  sundry  trinkets,  ribbons,  ballads  and  picture- 
books  as  a  "Fayring,"  to  yield  pleasure  along  with  remembrance 
of  the  humble  banqueting.  If  her  presence  were  forbidden  by  the 
cautious  parents,  he  could  nevertheless  buy,  and  send  for  her  some 
"  Fairing  "  to  win  kind  thoughts  for  the  giver.  Such  was  our 
present  ballad,  one  of  Thomas  Bowne's  (on  whom  see  Note,  p.  112). 

***  "  A  Fairing  for  Maids,"  ballad,  was  entered  in  the  Stationers'  Registers, 
D.  454,  to  Richard  Harper,  on  23  September,  1639  (  =  Transcript,  iv.  480). 
This  may  possibly  be  the  unique  broadside  of  the  same  name,  beginning,  "  All 
you  brave  Damsels  come  lend  your  attention  ;  "  by  J.  P.,  appointed  to  the  tune  of 
He  that  has  the  most  money  [he  is  the  best  man].  Its  burden  is,  '  For  when  yon 
are  bound,  you  needs  must  obey.'  We  doubt  whether  this  exemplar  was  issued  so 
early,  by  fifteen  years.  A  companion-ballad,  entitled  "  A  Fairing  for  Young 
Men  ;  or,  The  Careless  Lover,"  was  written  by  C.H.  (compare  vol.  vi.  p.  309), 
to  the  same  tune,  and  with  a  burden  of  '  Fm-  I  cannot  love,  if  not  loved  again  ' 
It  begins,  "List,  you  brave  Youngsters,  that  live  in  the  City"  Both  of  date 
circa  1656,  and  printed  for  Francis  Grove,  on  Snmo-hill.  To  him  had  been 
previously  entered  (12  Nov.,  16081,  "A  Fayring  for  Women  old  and  young." 

There  are  other  ballads  of  A  Fairing  (not  to  mention  "  'Twas  on  the  morn  of 
new  May-day  .  .  with  Jockey  to  the  Fair,"  before  1775).  Among  them  were 
"  The  Maiden's  Fairing,"  and  "  The  Batchelor's  Answer  to  the  Maiden's  Fairing." 
There  were  also  political  examples,  such  as  "  A  Bartholomew  Fairing,"  1649. 



[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  162;  Pepys,  III.  131 ;  Jersey,  I.  45;  Huth,  I.  98  ] 


5f  airing  for  young  $®tn  antr  fltDaiDs* 

If  you'l  take  my  advice,  this  I  would  have  you  do, 

Then  every  Young-man  take  his  Lass,  and  drink  one  Pot  or  two. 

To  the  Tune  of,  The  Winchester  Wedding.     [See  p.  112.] 

This  may  be  Printed,  R[ichard]  P[ocock]. 

By  Tobias  Bowne. 

S  Thomas  and  Mary  did  meet,  it  was  on  a  Summer's  day, 
'With  words  they  began  to  greet  each  other  upon  the  way  : 
"  Pray,  what,  are  you  bound  for  the  Fair  ?  "  this  young  man  unto 

her  did  say, 
"And  if  that  you  be  going  there,  I'le  be  glad  of  your  company." 
He  said  that  he  did  love  her,  as  a  young  man  a  maid  should  do, 
And  every  stile  they  went  over,  he  gave  her  a  kiss  or  two. 

But  when  they  came  to  the  Pair,  they  merrily  spent  the  day  ; 
But  meeting  with  William  and  Betty,  thus  Thomas  to  them  did  say, 
"  We'l  drink  before  we  part ;  come,  give  us  a  bottle  of  wine, 
Since  thou  art  with  thy  sweet  heart,  and  I  am  come  here  with  mine." 
The  Maids  were  not  unwilling,  as  far  as  I  understand ; 
But  Will  was  for  kissing  and  feeling  a  Maid  upon  every  hand. 

And  when  they  were  full  of  Canary,  their  stomachs  began  for  to  rise, 
Then  Thomas  began  to  court  Mary,  with  hand  upon  one  of  her  thighs  ; 
Said  he,  "Art  thou  willing  to  wed?  for  I  have  some  goods  beforehand, 
Besides,  when  my  Father  is  dead,  he  promis'd  me  all  his  land ; 
And  this  is  a  good  beginning,  besides  I  have  more  at  home, 
You  may  get  a  little  by  spinning,  and  I  can  both  weave  and  comb." 

[Mary  answers  him : 
"  My  Mother  will  give  me  a  little,  if  I  get  an  honest  young  man, 
She  saith  I  shall  have  the  kettle,  and  likewise  the  warming-pan  : 
My  Granum  will  give  me  a  cradle,  which  is  both  firm  and  strong, 
Sister  Margery  will  give  me  a  ladle,  these  goods  comes  in  ding  dong  : 
And  this  is  a  good  beginning,  besides  I  have  more  at  home, 
I  may  get  a  little  by  spinning,  and  you  can  both  Weave  and  Comb." 

Then  William  struck  up  to  Betty,  and  thus  unto  her  did  say, 
"  Since  thou  art  a  girl  that's  pritty,  I'le  give  thee  a  Pairing  this  day. 
Why  sit  you  so  melancholly,  my  pretty  sweet  Betty,  my  dove? 
Though  Thomas  be  all  for  Molly,  it's  thou  art  the  Maid  that  I  love. 
And  this  unto  thee  I  will  promise,  then  '  hang  sorrow,  cast  away  care ! ' 
We'l  be  as  far  forth  as  Thomas,  before  we  get  out  of  the  Fair. 

112  A  Fairing  for  Young  Men  and  Maids. 

"  If  that  you  will  change  your  condition,  and  that  you  do  fancy  a  man, 
I  pray,  Betty,  have  no  suspicion,  that  you  I  do  seek  to  trappan. 
My  tongue  and  my  heart  is  united,  I  scorn  for  to  tell  thee  a  lye  ; 
Sure  I  have  no  cause  to  he  slighted,  then  prethee,  love,  do  not  deny. 
Though  we  have  a  small  beginning,  as  little  as  nothing,  I  know, 
You  may  get  a  little  by  spinning,  and  I  can  both  Reap  and  Mow. 

"  And  thus  we  may  live  in  content,  as  they  that  had  a  great  deal  more ! " 
Then  out  of  the  door  they  went,  and  walked  the  Fair  all  o're, 
To  buy  each  other  a  Fairing,  as  young  men  and  maids  should  do  ; 
And  when  they  were  home  repairing,  they  walked  away  two  and  two. 
It  was  Thomas  and  Mary  together,  with  William  and  Betty  so  rare, 
Pray  what  man  can  say  any  other,  but  that  they  had  made  a  good  Fair  ? 
What  Maid  can  there  be  so  hard-hearted  an  honest  Young  man  to  deny  ? 
That  is  the  cause  many  are  parted,  without  any  reason  why. 
I  would  have  you  strive  to  prevent  it,  or  else  it  may  be  to  your  loss, 
I  know  that  you  are  not  contented,  when  you  one  the  other  do  cross. 
And  now  my  new  Song  it  is  over,  for  I  have  no  more  to  say, 
But  wish  every  Maid  a  true  lover,  that  I  have  seen  here  to-day. 

Printed  for  P.  Broohby,  at  the  Golden  Ball  in  Bye-  Corner. 

[In  Black-letter.  Four  -woodcuts,  respectively  in  vol.  vi.  pp.  163,  left  ;  151  ; 
our  present  vol.  p.  175,  left ;  and  woman,  vi.  685,  left.     Date,  1685-88.] 

*x*  The  tune  named,  The  Winchester  Wedding,  is  in  Popular  Music,  p.  496  ; 
see  D'Urfey's  song,  p.  207,  in  this  volume.  Of  Tobias  Bowne's  other  ballads  (see 
List  in  vol.  iv.  pp.  342,  343)  some  have  been  printed  in  vols.  iv.  344  (also  347, 
376,  both  unsigned  and  doubtful),  and  vi.  157,  158  ;  three  others  follow  on  our 
pp.  151-156;  and  "The  Young  Man's  Unfortunate  Destiny,"  besides  "The 
Hasty  Wedding  "  (p.  202)  are  given  later.  In  fifth  stanza,  "Hang  Sorrow,  cast 
away  care  ! "  is  a  quotation  from  the  ditty  thus  beginning  (Roxburghe  Ballads, 
i.  509),  Richard  Crimsall's  "Joy  and  Sorrow  nrixt  together,"  an  amplification  of 
a  Catch  printed  in  J.  Hilton's  Catch  that  Catch  Can,  p.  39,  1652 ;  in  the  Neio 
Academy  of  Compliments,  p.  117,  1671;  in  Windsor  Droller//,  p.  140,  1672; 
Oxford  Droller;/,  iii.  136,  1671  ;  and  Musical  Companion,  9,  1673. 

We  have  earlier  noticed  (vi.  156)  the  fondness  and  frequency  of  Tobias  Bowne's 
employment  of  the  name  "  Betty."  Although  nearly  all  of  his  ballads  are  about 
country  lovers  and  their  wooing,  ardent  swains  and  coy  maids,  he  preserves  a 
chaste  propriety  and  shows  much  practical  sense  and  homely  philosophy. 
Without  any  high  reach  of  poetry,  he  gives  us  as  true  insight  into  the  love 
adventures  in  humble  life  as  the  half-century  later  Harry  Carey,  to  whom  we  owe 
gratitude  for  "  Sally  in  our  Alley,"  with  her  'prentice  lad  who  no  doubt  rose  to  be 
an  honoured  citizen  of  our  own  dear  little  Yillage-on-Thames  ;  and,  possibly,  its 
Lord  Mayor.     Sally  then  became  "  My  Lady  Mayoress  !  " 

Note. — Age,  marry,  and  thank  you  too  (the  tune  named  on  p.  110)  had  belonged 
to  "  Tbe  Lass  of  Lynn,"  reprinted  in  our  Bagford  Ballads,  with  its  two  ante- 
cedents, pp.  462  to  468.  The  music  is  in  Youth's  Delight  on  the  Flageolet,  1697, 
and  Popular  Music  of  the  Olden  Time,  p.  585.  The  original  ballad  (we  fully 
believe)  was  entered  to  John  Wright,  junior,  in  the  Stationers'  Begisters,  3  April, 
1640,  as  "  Yes,  forsooth,  and  thank  you  too. "  Our  three,  reprinted,  begin 
respectively,  1st. — "  On  Brandon-Heath,  in  sight  of  Methwold  Steeple;  "  (this 
is  certainly  not  the  original,  being  in  a  different  rhythm  from)  2nd.—"  I  am  the 
Young  Lass  of  Lynn,  who  often  said  Thank  you  too;  "  3rd. — (Bagford  Coll.,  II. 
141  ;  Bepys  Coll.,  III.  300)  "Come  listen,  and  hear  me  tell." 


Ctoo  flMentines  anD  tftetr  Lotoets. 

"  [Poor  Robin  said,  in  a  bygone  year,]  Valentine1 s  Day  is  drawing  near, 
And  both  the  men  and  maids  incline  to  chuse  them  each  a  Valentine  ; 
And  if  a  man  gets  one  he  loves,  he  gives  her  first  a  pair  of  gloves  : 
And,  by  the  way,  remember  this,  to  seal  the  favour  with  a  kiss." 

— Poor  Robin'' s  Almanack. 

]\  SONG  on  '  The  Drawing  of  Valentines  '  to  the  tune  of  Madam' 's 
Jig,  in  the  first  part  of  Westminster  Drollery,  p.  35,  1671,  was 
reprinted  by  the  present  Editor  in  187.5.     Five  stanzas,  this  is  first : 

"  There  was,  and  there  was,  and  I  [  =  ay,]  marry  was  there, 
A  Crew  on  S.  Valentine's  Eve  did  meet  together, 
And  every  Lad  had  his  particular  Lass  there, 
And  drawing  of  Valentines  caused  their  coming  thither. 
Then  Mr.  John  drew  Mrs  J  one  first,  Sir  ; 
And  Mrs.  Jone  would  fain  'a  drawn  John  had  she  durst,  Sir. 
So  Mr.  William  drew  Mrs.  Gillian  the  next,  Sir ; 
And  Mrs.  Gillian  not  drawing  of  William,  was  vext,  Sir."     Etc. 

In  fact,  they  wei'e  all  at  cross-purposes.  Although  one  of  each 
couple  drew  by  lot  correctly,  their  complete  union  was  not  achieved, 
through  the  girl  failing  to  draw  her  lover's  name,  after  he  had 
drawn  her's.  "  They  then  did  jumble  all  in  the  hat  together,  and 
each  did  promise  them  to  draw  'em  fair,  Sir;  "  which  is  much  more 
than  we  believe  they  either  intended  or  performed,  without  cheating, 
seeing  that  every  Lad  ultimately  got  his  own  chosen  Lass,  and  every 
Lass  her  Laddie.  But  life  is  short,  and  pride  is  sinful,  so  that  a  few 
peccadilloes  sweeten  the  disposition,  begetting  humility.  Good- 
tempered  sinners  are  pleasanter  company  than  the  self-righteous. 
"  Then  every  one  i'  th'  Tavern  cry'd  amain,  Sir;  and  staid  till  drawing 
there  had  fill'd  their  brain,  Sir."     The  end  crowns  the  work. 

There  was  also,  instead  of  the  risky  Lottery-drawing  of  Valentines,  the  more 
legitimate  custom  of  craving  acceptance  for  the  year's  service  by  being  first  at 
the  sweetheart's  window.  Ophelia  sings  one  song,  telling  how  a  maid  adventures 
thus  to  her  lover's  casement,  and  the  consequences:  "To-morrow  it  is  St. 
Valentine's  Day,  all  in  the  morning  betime,  and  I  a  Maid  at  your  window,  to  be 
your  Valentine,'"  etc.  Another  charming  lyric  in  Westminster- Drollery,  Part 
2nd,  p.  41,  1672,  is  entitled  "The  Valentine,"  and  begins,  "As  youthful  day 
put  on  his  best  attire  to  usher  morne."  Better  than  any  other  ditty,  its  seven 
stanzas  tell  of  the  rites  and  customs,  gifts  and  privileges,  wishes,  promises,  and 
interchange  of  confidence  between  two  loving  Valentines. 

In  Clio  and  Euleipe,  printed  in  1755  (but  collected  in  1762),  i.  p.  196,  is  the 
sonsj  of  St.  "Valentine's  Day,"  set  to  music  by  Dr.  T.  A.  Arne,  beginning, 
"When  blushes  dy'd  the  cheek  of  Morn,"  telling  how  "  Philander  from  his 
downy  bed  to  fair  Lisetta's  chamber  sped,  Crying, '  Awake,  sweet  love  of  mine, 
I'm  come  to  be  thy  Valentine."  Francis  Douce  has  shown  in  his  Illustrations 
of  Shakespeare,  ii.  p.  252,  1807,  how  in  Rome  during  great  part  of  February  at  the 
Lupercalia  (feasts  in  honour  of  Pan  and  Juno),  "the  names  of  young  women  were 
put  into  a  box,  from  which  they  were  drawn  by  the  men  as  chance  directed. 
The  pastors  of  the  early  Christian  Church  .  .  substituted  the  names  of  particular 
saints,  instead  of  the  women's,"  etc.,  but  it  soon  fell  out  that  the  old  system 
of  choosing  mates  reasserted  itself,  and  was  kept  up  on  S.  Valentine's  Day. 

VOL.    VII.  I 



[Roxburghe  Collection,  III.  191  ;  Eawlinson,  566.  123.] 

3  pleasant  0m  £>ong  of 

Ctoo  Valentines  and  tt)etr  Jlotoers. 

The  Tune  is,  Bid  you  see  Nan  today  ?  [Same  as  Virginia :  see  p.  115.] 

Ood  morrow,  Valentine  !     God  blesse  you  ever ! 
Kind  in  your  promises,  faithfull  was  ever. 
Be  thou  still  true  to  me,  the  kindest  heart  I'le  be, 
That  ever  you  did  see.     Kisse,  and  Good  morrow  ! 

I  like  my  choyse  so  well,  Love  doth  compell  me, 

And  force  my  tongue  to  tell,  the  truth  is  1  love  thee  : 

Kindly  I  do  request  that  in  your  heart  and  brest 

My  love  may  ever  rest.     Kisse,  \_and  Good  morrow  /]  8 

There  was  never  kind  Sweet-heart,  that  lusted  for  pleasure, 
Could  find  such  a  Valentine,  passing  all  treasure. 
I  have  obtain'd  the  thing,  which  to  my  heart  doth  bring 
Great  joy,  which  makes  me  sing.  Kisse,  [and  Good  morrow  /] 

"When  others  sleep  in  bed,  I  lye  still  musing, 

To  think  on  my  good  hap,  I  had  in  chusing  ; 

To  find  such  a  Valentine,  bearing  a  faithfull  mind, 

Courteous  [in]  love,  and  kind,  Kisse,  [and  Good  morroio  /]    16 

There  is  an  old  proverb,  that  '  Birds  of  a  feather 

Upon  St.  Valentine's  Bay  will  meet  all  together  :  ' 

So,  when  true  Lovers  meet,  with  many  a  kisse  full  sweet, 

That  day,  each  other  greet,  with  Kisse,  and  Good  morrow  ! 

All  you  that  have  Valentines,  if  they  be  faithful, 

You  have  a  great  blessing,  therefore  be  [gr]ateful,     t'  thankful.' 

And  kind  to  them  again,  for  else — I  tell  you  plain, 

Much  love  is  spent  in  vain.     Kisse,  and  Good  morrow  !  24 

If  my  Valentine  for  [me]  would  be  a  Neat-heard,  ['my  sake.' 

Well  could  I  find  in  heart  to  be  a  Shepheard, 

To  keep  sheep  on  a  hill,  so  I  might  have  my  will, 

To  talk  with  her  my  fill,  while  my  flock  scatters. 

Shall  I  live  to  deny  my  Valentine  for  ever  ? 

Refrain  her  company  ?  that  will  I  never ! 

For  if  I  her  refrain,  I  must  not  come  again  : 

Nor  for  all  Avorldly  gain  :  for  Love  lasts  ever.  32 

Adieu  to  my  True-Love,  whom  I  loved  ever ; 
When  I  am  out  of  sight,  let  not  your  mind  waver. 
Though  Valentine's  Day  be  gone,  and  we  act  both  as  one, 
My  love  to  thee  alone  shall  he  for  ever. 

Two  Valentines  :  and,  No  Drawing  of  Valentines.      115 

Good  night  to  my  Yalentine  !     Now  I  have  ended. 

To  stay  any  longer,  I  cannot  intend  it. 

I  wish  all  young-men  kind,  that  bear  a  faithful  mind, 

To  give  their  Valentine  A  Kisse,  and  Good  morrow  !  40 

[London :]  Printed  for  F.  Coles,  T.  Vere,  and  7V.  Gilbertson. 
[In  Black-letter.     Two  woodcuts,  both  on  p.  140.     Date,  circa  1673.] 

***  For  the  words  Did  you  see  Nan  to-day  ?  we  turn  to  Thomas  Deloney's 
unique  volume,  The  Garland  of  Delight,  thirtieth  edition,  1681.  The  ballad  is 
entitled  "  The  Lover's  Lamentation  to  his  love  Nanny."  A  broadside  version 
begins,  "  When  I  call  to  mind."  One  sequel  (Flattering  Lover's  Farewell) 
begins,  "  Of  late  it  was  my  chance  ;  "  another  (The  Comfortable  Answer  of  Nanny) 
is  "I  am  thy  Lover  nameless."     Tune  marked  '  Virginia.'' 

In  1875  we  reprinted  (in  an  Appendix  to  the  Westminster  Drollery,  p.  xx) 
"William  Cartwright's  poem,  from  the  posthumous  edition,  Works,  1651,  p.  242  : 

"Ra  Sraintntj  of  Ualentmeg. 

"  /^AST  not  in  Chloe's  name  among  the  common  undistinguish'd  throng, 
\J     I'll  neither  so  advance  the  foolish  raign  of  Chance, 
Nor  so  depress  the  throne  whereon  Love  sits  alone  : 

If  I  must  serve  my  passions,  I'll  not  owe 

Them  to  my  fortune  :  ere  I  love,  I'll  know. 

"  Tell  me  what  God  lurks  in  the  Lap,  to  make  that  councel  we  call  Sap  ? 
"What  power  conveighs  the  name  ?  Who  to  it  adds  the  flame  ? 
Can  he  raise  mutual!  fires,  and  answering  desires  ? 

None  can  assure  me  that  I  shall  approve 

Her  whom  I  draw,  or  draw  her  whom  I  love. 

"  No  longer  then  this  Feast  abuse  ;  you  choose  and  like,  I  like  and  choose ; 
My  flame  is  try'd  and  just,  your's  taken  up  on  trust. 
Hail  thus,  blest  Valentine  !  and  may  my  Chloe  shine 

To  me  and  none  but  me  ;  as  I  beleeve, 

We  ought  to  make  the  whole  year  but  thy  Eve." 

—(By  Willm.  Cartwright.) 

Cartwright  died  young,  circa  1638,  and  although  rare  Ben  Jonson  paid  the 
loving  tribute  to  him,  "  My  son  Cartwright  writes  all  like  a  man,"  he  has  failed 
to  win  his  due  meed  of  attention  and  praise  from  our  modern  race  of  fastidious 
and  dissatisfied  Critics,  to  whom  Poetry  appeals  in  vain  unless  bedecked  and 
bedizened.  The  glowing  warmth  of  Cartwright's  "  Song  of  Dalliance  "  (as  it  is 
called  in  Sportive  Wit,  1656,  but  it  is  entitled  "  Love's  Courtship  "  in  Parnassus 
Biceps,  of  the  same  date),  beginning,  "Hark,  my  Flora!  Love  doth  call  us  to 
that  strife  that  must  befall  us,"  has  been  hailed  with  praise  by  Arthur  H.  Bullen, 
and  reprinted  in  his  charming  volume  Speculum  Amantis,  p.  10,  1889  ;  an  Editor 
whose  taste  and  insight,  like  W.  J.  Linton's,  put  the  cold  dreariness  of  sapient 
•  professors '  to  the  blush.     In  Herrick's  Hesperides,  1640,  is  A  Valentine, 

Ea  |)i0  fRi'stress. 

"  /CHOOSE  ME  your  Valentine  !  next,  let  us  marry ! 
\J     Love  to  the  death  will  pine  if  we  long  tarry. 

"  Promise  and  keep  your  vowes,  or  vow  ye  never  ! 
Love's  doctrine  disallowes  Troth -breakers  ever. 

"  You  have  broke  promise  twice,  Deare,  to  undoe  me ; 
If  you  prove  faithlesse  thrice,  none  then  will  wooe  ye." 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  290  ;  Pepys,  III.  239;  Jersey,  II.  73.] 

Cfre  JLon&on  Lasses  lamentation; 

%}cx  fear  sTjc  sJjoulti  rtebcr  be  fHarrtrti. 

To  the  Tune  of,  I,  marry,  and  thank  ye  too.     [See  pp.  110,  112.] 
Licensed  according  to  Order. 

A  Las  !  T  am  in  a  Rage,  and  bitterly  weep  and  cry, 
Because  I'm  nineteen  years  of  aire,  yet  cannot  be  married,  not  I. 

No  Gallant  regards  my  moan,  for  Love  I  am  like  to  dye, 

It  grieves  my  beart  to  lye  alone,  yet  cannot  be  married,  not  I ! 

Mine  eyes  do's  like  Fountains  flow,  as  I  on  my  pillow  lye, 
There's  none  knows  what  I  undergo,  yet  cannot  be  married,  not  I. 

There's  Margery,  Sue,  and  Kate,  has  Husbands  with  them  to  lye, 

Yet  none  regards  my  wretched  state,  yet  cannot  be  married,  not  I.  1 6 

Young  men,  I  must  tell  ye  true,  I  scorn  to  report  a  Lye, 

I  am  both  young  and  handsome  too,  yet  cannot  be  married,  not  I. 

My  Father  is  gray  and  old,  and  surely  ere  long  will  dye, 

And  though  he'll  leave  me  all  his  Gold,  i"  cannot  be  married,  not  I. 

Oh  !  this  is  my  Grief  and  Care,  the  which  I  cannot  pass  by, 
To  think  I  am  my  Father's  Heir,  yet  cannot  be  married,  not  I. 

I  am  in  Distraction  hurl'd,  and  do  for  a  Husband  cry, 

It's  more  to  me  than  all  the  world,  yet  cannot  [be  married,  not  J].  32 

I  am  a  poor  Love-sick  Girl,  and  ready  with  grief  to  dye, 

I  proffer'd  Jewels,  Gold  and  Pearl,  [yet  cannot  be  married,  not  i]. 

I[n]  silks  I  am  well  array'd,  and  e'ery  new  Fashion  buy, 
Because  I  am  loath  to  dye  a  Maid,  yet  cannot  [be  married,  not  1]. 

As  fine  as  the  Queen  of  May,  I  flourish  with  gallantry, 

I  wear  my  Top-knot  e'ery  day,  yet  cannot  [be  married,  not  J]. 

I  paint  and  I  powder  still,  to  tempt  all  that  I  come  nigh, 

But  let  me  do  what  I  will,  yet  cannot  [be  married,  nut  I].  48 

There's  never  a  Lass  in  Town  for  Beauty  can  me  come  nigh, 
But  Fortune  she  has  sent  a  frown,  /  cannot  be  married,  not  I. 

The  Gold  which  I  have  in  store  I  value  no  more  than  Clay ; 
I'd  give  all,  had  I  ten  times  more,  so  I  might  be  married  to-day  ! 

[In  Black-letter.     Colophon  cut  off ;  but  the  Pepys  exemplar  was  "  Printed  for 

P.  Brooksby,  J.  Deacon,  J.  Blare,  and  /.  Bach:'    Four  woodcuts  :   1st  and  2nd 

are  on  p.  118  ;    3rd  is  the  Lady,  half-length,  of  vol.  iii.  p.  357  left ;  and  the 

4th  is  the  small  lady  figure  on  p.  29.     Date,  circd  1687.] 

V*  Note.—  The  only  links  connecting  this  ballad  with  "  The  London  Lad's 

Lamentation  to  Cupid,"  on  our  p.  109,  are  the  resemblance  in  title,  and  the  fact 

that  John  Back  issued  both  ballads.    Their  tunes  and  rhvthm  are  totally  different. 

Much  more  affinity  exists  with  "  The  Young  Women  and  Maidens'  Lamentation," 

which  we  bring  into  closer  proximity  ;  both  were  sung  to  the  self-same  tune,  and 

issued  by  the  same  publishers  collectively,  but  probably  at  a  slightly  later  date. 


[Roxburgke  Collection,  II.  566  ;  Pepys,  III.  81  ;  Jersey,  I.  330.] 

C6e  goung  (Hiomen  antJ  a^aiDens'  ILamentation; 

(JTfjctr  bitter  st'tyTjs  anb  sorrora  to  fjear  tlje  <©lb  flJHomen  are  prest  to 
go  fofth,  tfyz  &rmg,  SdIjiIc  tfjcg  tfjemselbes  are  slujijtetj  anb  bejectcb, 
bafjirfj  are  able  to  perform  far  better  Scrbfce. 

Tune  of,  I,  marry,  and  thank  ye  too.     [See  pp.  110,  112,  116.] 
Licensed  according  to  Order. 


E  Lasses  of  Jowrfow-Town  in  sorrowfull  sort  appear, 

Because  the  Fates  on  us  do's  frown  ;  old  Women  are  Prest  we  hear ; 

To  wait  on  the  warlike  Train,  and  march  in  the  Van  and  Rear  : 
But  Maids  they  will  not  entertain,  old  Women  are  Prest  ice  hear. 

We  would  with  our  Maiden  skill  like  Amazon  Dames  appear  ; 
But  we  are  unregarded  still,  old  Women  are  Prest  we  hear. 

'Tis  Reason  they  should  allow,  young  Lasses  to  have  a  share, 

But  Kissing  goes  by  Favour  now,  old  Women  are  Prest  we  hear.  16 

We,  like  the  sweet  tender  Dove,  coidd  every  Souldier  chear  ; 

Yet  still  they  slight  a  Maiden's  Love,  old  Women  are  Prest  ive  hear. 

With  Age  they  do  grunt  and  groan,  nay,  tremble  and  quake  for  fear ; 
Yet  tell  them  this,  it  is  all  one,  old  Women  are  Prest  we  hear. 

I  am  sure  a  young  Lass  can  Nurse  a  Souldier,  they  need  not  fear ; 
But  see  the  Case  is  alter'd  thus,  old  Women  are  Prest  we  hear. 

We'd  cuddle  them  in  our  Arms,  and  this  will  their  Spirits  chear  ; 

Yet  notwithstanding  all  our  Charms,  old  Women  are  Prest  we  hear.  32 

Our  Sweethearts  are  march'd  away,  the  which  we  adore  so  dear, 
And  we  behind  are  fore'd  to  stay,  old  Women  are  Prest  we  hear. 

We'd  Kiss  and  embrace  them  too,  and  Love  should  like  Fountains  flow, 
But  old  Wives  they  can  nothing  do,  then  why  should  not  Virgins  yo  ? 

Our  Glory  and  Fame  shall  ring,  and  baffle  the  proudest  Foe, 

In  getting  Souldiers  for  the  King,  then  ivhy  should  not  Damsels  go  ? 

Young  Heroes  that  will  adorn  the  Army  in  time  we  know, 

As  being  Souldiers  bred  and  born,  and  why  should  not  Damsels  go  ?  48 

To  venture  who  wou'd  refuse  ?  there's  Glory  and  Fame  you  know, 

And  Teeming-time  we  are  loath  to  lose,  and  why  should  not  Damsels  go  ? 

The  Captains,  for  Females  good,  may  pity  and  kindness  show  ; 
Alas  !  we  are  all  Flesh  and  Bloud,  and  have  a  great  mind  to  go. 

For  why  shou'd  we  stay  behind,  in  sorrowful  grief  and  woe  ? 

I  hope  at  length  they'll  be  so  kind  to  suffer  young  Maids  to  yo.  60 

Printed  for  P.  Brooksby,  J.  Deacon,  J.  Blare,  J.  Back. 

[In  Black-letter.  With  four  woodcuts.  1st  and  4th  {reverse  of  p.  78),  are  on 
p.  120  ;  2nd,  the  Prince  Rupert  figure  of  our  p.  11,  mutilated,  without  the 
dog  ;  3rd,  a  cut  that  had  not  hitherto  appeared,  of  a  girl  listening  to  the  larks 
singing,  given  later  on  p.  196.     Date,  probably,  circa  1690  :    William's  wars.] 


Lotted  HDtoertbroto. 

"  Cupid,  thou  art  a  wanton  Boy,  [Of-  V-  91. 

And  heretofore  mad'st  Love  a  Toy, 

But  in  thy  raigne  a  Tyrant  art, 

To  wound  a  Shepherdesse's  heart ; 

To  make  her  sigh,  swoune,  weepe,  and  pale, 

Thus  sick,  yet  modest  will  not  vaile  ; 
But  cryes  out  '  Hymen,  'tis  your  cure, 
For  the  blind  Boy  I'le  ne're  endure.'  " 

— Dr.  John  Wilson's  Chearful  At/res,  1659. 

XIlLTHOTJGH  lost  for  a  hundred  years  from  the  Roxhurghe 
Collection,  we  restore  "  Love's  Overthrow  "  (formerly  Roxb.  Coll., 
II.  576)  to  its  due  place  among  Roxhurghe  Ballads,  on  our  p.  119. 

%*  Note.— Eoxb.  Coll.,  II.  p.  567,  is  a  duplicate  of  Roxb.  Coll.,  II.  556,  viz. 
"Young  Jemmy"  (reprinted  in  Roxb.  Bds.,  iv.  50a)  ;  and  p.  568  is  a  blank. 
There  need  be  no  doubt  that  here  ended  the  Pearson  Collection,  shown  by  the 
Printed  Index  of  First  Lines  attached  to  Vol.  II.,  as  one  had  been  similarly  to  the 
first  volume  (entirely  reprinted  in  Roxb.  Bds.,  vols,  i.,  ii.  and  first  half  of  vol. 
iii.)  ;  thereafter  follows  a  Manuscript  Index  of  additional  [Roxhurghe]  Ballads. 
Near  the  close  of  the  printed  list,  eleven  (Pearson)  ballads  were  mentioned,  which 
are  now  missing,  but  all  of  these  we  have  traced  in  duplicate  elsewhere,  except 
one  beginning  "Now  mortals  all  prepare  to  hear,"  and  the  remaining  five 
are  to  be  given  in  this  volume.  They  are  "  The  Plowman's  Reply ;  "  "A 
True  Touch  of  the  Times  ;  "  "  The  Manner  of  the  King's  Trial ;  "  "The  King's 
Last  Speech  ;  "  "  A  Douzen  of  Points  ;  "  and  "  The  Angel  Gabriel."  Other  four 
of  the  lost  are  already  reprinted :  vie.  "  Hubert's  Ghost,"  in  Bagford  Ballads, 
p.  160;  "A  Warning  Piece  to  England,  being  the  Fall  of  Queen  Eleanor" 
(Roxhurghe  Ballads,  ii.  69);  "The  Wandering  Jew"  {Ibid.,  vi.  693);  and 
"Love's  Overthrow,"  now  given. 

[These  cuts  belong  to  "  The  London  Lassc's  Lamentation,-'  p.  116.] 


[Lost  from  Roxb.  Coll.,  II.  576  ;   C.  22,  e.  2,  60  ;  Huth,  II.  3  ;  Jersey,  II.  61.] 

Lotoe's  SDtiertbroto ; 


A  full  and  true  account  of  a  Young  Maid  that  lived  in  Exeter-Exchange-Court, 
in  the  Strand,  [she]  being  deeply  in  love  with  a  young  Serving-man,  whose 
care  was  so  great  that  he  would  not  marry  till  he  was  in  a  good  Condition  to 
maintain  a  Wife  ;  which  resolution  of  his  bred  jealousie  in  her ;  whereupon 
in  reality  of  his  Love,  be  presented  her  with  a  Ring,  but  she  afterwards 
dispairing  of  his  Constancy,  disdainfully  returned  him  the  Ring  again,  and 
within  a  short  time  after  poysoned  her  self ;  And  now  she  lies  buried  near 
the  May-pole  in  the  Strand,  with  a  Stake  drove  through  her  body,  being 
there  Buried  the  Thirteenth  day  of  May  last. 

To  the  Tune  of,  Bateman.     [See  vol.  iii.  p.  194  ;  and  vi.  650.] 

A  LI  you  that  know  what  'tis  to  love,  come  mourn  a  while  with  me, 
For  unto  you  I  will  declare  a  mournful  Tragedy  : 
A  fair  and  comely  Damsel  did  live  lately  in  the  Strand, 
"Whose  fancy  taught  her  to  obey  Love's  power  and  strict  command. 

So  that  she  deeply  fell  in  love  with  a  young  Serving-man, 
"Who  loyal  unto  her  did  prove,  yet  here  her  woe  began  : 
Each  other's  love  they  did  imbrace,  and  joyntly  did  as:ree, 
That  in  a  very  little  space  they  both  should  Marry'd  be. 

The  Young  man  he  was  full  of  care,  and  fearful  to  ingage 
Himself  in  Wedlock,  which  did  put  this  Maid  into  a  rage  : 
She  loved  him  exceeding  well,  and  so  he  loved  too, 
But  'cause  he  made  a  small  demur,  she  knew  not  what  to  do. 

120     Lore's  Overthrow  (a  retrieved  Roxburghe  Balhal). 

He  did  intend  all  should  do  well,  ere  he  would  Marry 'd  be, 

And  never  take  a  Wife  to  bring  her  into  misery  : 

So  for  this  cause  he  did  delay,  and  Marriage  did  prolong. 

Till  she  from  reason  went  astray,  now  mind  my  mournful  Song.  16 

She  did  mistake  his  good  intent,  poor  silly  harmless  Maid, 
And  ci  v"d.  she  knew  not  what  he  meant,  of  him  she  was  afraid  : 
Quoth  she,  "  If  he  should  prove  unkind,  what  would  become  of  me  ? 
He  fickle  is,  I  now  do  find,  and  deals  deceitfully. 

"  If  Fortune  will  not  be  my  friend,  and  teach  him  to  be  kind. 
My  life  will  quickly  have  an  end,  my  death  draws  near  I  find." 
Thus  discontented  did  she  live,  and  could  not  quiet  be, 
For  nothing  could  her  pains  remove,  hatch'd  up  by  Jealousie.  24 

Her  fears  did  every  day  increase,  least  he  should  faithless  be, 
Her  panting  heart  could  find  no  ease,  a  mournful  Soul  was  she  ; 
At  last  she  fell  into  dispair,  and  Satan  prompt'  her  on, 
To  draw  her  Soul  into  a  snare,  and  thus  her  woe  begun. 

In  hourly  Torments  still  was  she,  and  could  not  he  content, 

But  for  to  set  her  troubles  free,  this  way  to  work  she  went : 

To  Holbourne  she  one  day  did  go,  and  passion  was  her  guide  ; 

Which  did  procure  her  overthrow,  and  made  her  go  aside.  32 

Then  with  a  Cup  of  Poyson  strong  she  ends  her  mournful  Life, 
'Cause  she  before  her  time  did  long  to  be  a  married  Wife  : 
After  this  Poyson  she  had  took,  a  week  she  lay  in  pain, 
Thinking  her  Love  had  her  forsook,  which  made  her  to  complain. 

And  now  she  Buried  is  likewise,  near  the  May-pole  in  the  Strand, 

A  stake  is  through  her  body  drove,  as  we  do  understand : 

Then  Maidens  all  be  sure  take  heed,  in  Love  you  n'er  dispair, 

Since  Jealousie  caus'd  this  cruel  deed,  true  Lovers  all  beware  !  40 

Printed  for  P.  Brooksby,  at  the  Golden  Ball,  in  West- Smith  field. 

[In  Black-letter.  Four  woodcuts.  1st,  the  pious  widow  of  vol.  vi.  p.  192  ;  2nd, 
the  young  man,  iii.  359  ;  3rd,  the  striding  man,  vi.  163  left ;  4th,  the  Bride's 
Burial,  on  p.  119.  Date,  circd  1673.  Compare  "  The  Lamented  Lovers. "  These 
two  cuts  belong  to  "The  Young  Women  and  Maiden's  lamentation,'"  -p.  117.] 



C6e  §)ligf)tcti  a^aiti* 

"  Where  Charles's  ladies  once  would  flit." '—Andrew  Lang  (3IS.). 

TJR  "  Cupid  Group  "  ends  with  a  "  Slighted  Maid  "  (mentioned 
in  vol.  vi.  p.  276),  who  cannot  find  the  union  she  longs  for. 

The  present  broadside-ballad  was  evidently  founded  on  Sir  William  Davenant's 
song,  which  re-appears  in  our  second  stanza,  "  My  lodging  is  on  the  cold  ground," 
sung  by  Mistress  Mary  Davis  as  Celania,  circa  1667,  in  his  tragi-coraedy  of  "  The 
Rivals/'  act  v.  (an  adaptation  of  "The  Two  Noble  Kinsmen,"  attributed  to 
Shakespeare  and  Fletcher).  The  song  became  instantaneously  popular,  sometimes 
called  "  Phillis,  her  Lamentation"  {Merry  Droller//,  Complete,  1670);  and  in 
modern  times,  "The  Fair  Bedlamite"  (Hive,  i  88,  1724),  and  "The  Mad 
Shepherdess"  (Evans's  Old  Ballads,  iv.  195).  Downes  mentions  "  Moll  Davis." 
"She  performed  that  [i.e.  Celania's  part]  so  charmingly  that  not  long  after 
[early  in  January,  166i,  says  Pepys],  it  raised  her  from  her  bed  on  the  cold 
ground  to  a  Bed  Royal"  (Roscius  Anglicanus,  p.  32,  edition  1781).  The  music 
and  words  are  given  in  Popular  Music,  pp.  527,  528  ;  the  words  alone  in  Merry 
Drollery,  part  2nd,  p.  290  ;  Academy  of  Complements,  p.  187,  1670  ;  New  Acad, 
of  Comp.,  159,  1671  ;  Windsor  Drollery,  69,  1672.  Of  pretty  fair-haired  Mary 
Davis,  whom  Charles  took  off  the  stage  to  be  his  Mistress  (we  need  not  recall 
Nell  Gwynne's  trick,  played  on  her  rival  at  the  time),  a  portrait  is  given,  after 
Sir  Peter  Lely,  in  Fitzgerald  Molloy's  amusing  Royalty  Restored,  vol.  ii.  1885. 
Her  dancing  had  been  as  good  as  her  singing  (see  Flecknoe's  Epigrams,  1669),  and 
surpassed  that  of  Nelly,  though  as  an  actress  she  had  less  vivacity,  and  seems 
after  wards  to  have  given  way  to  melancholy.  Pepys  mentions  her  so  early  as 
March  7,  166f,  thus: — "To  the  Duke's  playhouse  [in  Dorset- Gardens]  .... 
little  Miss  Davis  did  dance  a  jig  after  the  end  of  the  play,  and  there  telling 
[what  was  to  be]  the  next's  day's  play  ;  so  that  it  came  in  by  force  only  to  please 
the  company  to  see  her  dance  in  boy's  clothes  ;  and  the  truth  is,  there  is  no  com- 
parison between  Nell's  dancing  the  other  day  at  the  King's  house  in  boy's  clothes 
[as  Florimel  in  '  The  Maiden  Queen,'  by  Dryden,  afterwards  called  '  The  Secret 
Love'],  and  this;  this  is  infinitely  beyond  the  other." — Diary,  iv.  263,  Mynors 
Bright's  edition,  1877.  Mary  Davis  visited  the  theatre,  21st  December,  1668, 
in  a  box  opposite  to  the  king  and  Lady  Castlemaine,  exchanging  glances  with 
him,  "  but  when  she  saw  Moll  Davis,  she  blushed  like  fire,  which  troubled  me." 
—  Ibid.,  v.  426.  Nearly  a  year  earlier  he  had  recorded,  on  January  11th,  166|, 
that  Mistress  Knipp  "  came  and  sat  by  us,  and  her  talk  pleased  me  a  little,  she 
telling  me  how  Miss  Davis  is  for  certain  going  away  from  the  Duke's  House,  the 
king  being  in  love  with  her ;  and  a  house  is  taken  for  her,  and  furnishing,  and 
she  hath  a  ring  given  her  already  worth  600?." — Ibid.,  v.  155.  Three  days  later 
a  Mrs.  Pierce  told  him  that  "Miss  Davis  is  the  most  impertinent  slut  in  the 
world,  and  the  more  now  the  king  do  show  her  countenance,  and  is  reckoned  his 
Mistress,  even  to  the  scorn  of  the  whole  world."—  Ibid.,  v.  158.  (We  remember 
how  disdainfully  an  ill-dressed  prude  surveys  the  unblushing  Lightskirts,  in  our 
woodcut  on  p.  128.)  Mary,  after  having  "quite  gone  from  the  Duke  of  York's 
house,"  tried  to  brazen  it  out,  coming  to  Court  shortly  before  May  31,  1668, 
"to  dance  her  jigg ;  but  the  Queen  would  not  stay  to  see  it,  which  people  do 
thiuk  was  out  of  displeasure  at  her  being  the  King's  mistress,  that  she  could  not 
bear  it.  My  Lady  Castlemaine  is,  it  seems,  now  mightily  out  of  request,  the 
king  coming  little  to  see  her,  and  thus  she  mighty  melancholy  and  discontented." 
—Ibid.,  v.  295.  So,  as  Owen  Meredith  sang,  in  'The  Portrait,'  "One  nail 
drives  out  another  at  least,"  and  the  succession  of  les  Maitresses  du  Roi  was 
rapid.  Not  that  Charles  was  ungrateful,  since  he  never  turned  any  favourite 
adrift,  merely  claiming  "  power  to  add  to  the  number." 


[Roxburghe  Coll.,  II.  423  ;  Euing,  335, 336  ;  Eawlinson,  136  ;  Jersey,  II.  214.] 

Ct)e  £>itgf)tefi  2®ait) ; 

£Dc,  ^ge  pining  Lobcr* 

Witt  sighs  and  moans  she  doth  intreat  her  Dear, 
"Whilst  he  seems  to  be  deaf  and  will  not  hear : 
At  length  his  frozen  Heart  begins  to  melt, 
Being  moved  with  the  passion  she  had  felt. 

To  the  Tune  of,  I  prithee  Love  turn  [to']  me,  etc.     [See  p.  121.] 

Licens'd  and  Enter' d  according  to  Order. 


— Gjfxj&M 

'iljm  zll'yVM 








"  TTTAs  ever  Maiden  so  scorned,  by  one  that  she  loved  so  dear  ; 
V\    Long  time  have  I  sighed  and  mourned,  and  still  my  love  will 
not  hear : 
0  turn  to  me,  my  own  dear  Heart,  and  I  prithee,  Lore,  turn  to  me : 
For  thou  art  the  Lad  1  long  for,  and,  alas  !  what  remedy  ?  [-Vo'e>  p-  124. 

"  My  lodging  is  on  the  cold  ground,  and  very  hard  is  my  fare, 
P>ut  that  which  troubles  me  most,  is,  the  unkindness  of  my  dear: 
0  turn  to  rue,  my  won  dear  LLi-art,  and  I  prithee,  Love,  tarn  to  me  ; 
For  thou  art  the  Lad  I  long  for,  and,  alas  J  what  remedy  ? 

"  0  stop  not  thy  ear  to  the  wailings  of  me  a  poor  harmless  Maid ; 
You  know  we  arc  subject  to  failings,  blind  Cupid  hath  me  betraid  : 
And  now,  I  must  cry,  0  turn,  Love,  and  I  prithee,  Love,  turn  to  me, 
For  thou  art  the  JIan  that  alone  art  the  cause  of  my  misery. 

The  Slighted  Maid  :  *  My  Lodging  is  on  the  cold  Ground.'    123 

"How  can'st  thou  be  so  hard  hearted,  and  cruel  to  me  alone  ? 
If  ever  we  should  be  parted,  then  all  my  delight  is  gone  ; 
But  ever  I  cry,  0  turn,  Love,  and  I  prithee,  Love,  turn  to  me, 
For  thou  art  the  Man  that  alone  art  the  cause  of  my  misery. 

"  I'll  make  thee  pritty  sweet  posies,  and  constant  I  ever  will  prove, 
I'll  strow  thy  chamber  with  roses,  and  all  to  delight  my  Love  : 
Then  turn  to  me,  my  own  dear  Heart,  and  L  prethee,  Love,  turn  to  me, 
For  thou  art  the  Man  that  alone  can  procure  my  liberty. 

"I'll  do  my  endeavour  to  please  thee,  by  making  the  bed  full  soft, 
Of  all  thy  sorrows  I'll  ease  thee,  by  kissing  thy  lips  full  oft: 
Then  turn  to  me,  my  own  dear  Heart,  and  I prethee,  Love,  turn  to  me, 
For  thou  art  the  Man  that  alone  can  procure  my  liberty. 

' '  But  thou  wilt  harden  thy  heart  still,  and  be  deaf  to  my  pittiful  moan, 
So  1  must  endure  the  smart  still,  and  tumble  in  straw  all  alone : 
"Whilst  still  I  cry,  0  turn,  Love,  and  L prethee,  Love,  turn  to  me, 
For  thou  art  the  Man  that  alone  art  the  cause  of  my  misery. 

"  If  that  thou  still  do  disdain  me,  I  never  will  love  thee  more, 
Thy  cruelty  shall  never  pain  me,  for  I'll  have  another  in  store : 
But  still  I  cry,  0  turn,  Love,  and  L prethee,  Love,  hern  to  me, 
For  thou  art  the  Man  that  alone  art  the  cause  of  my  misery, ." 

By  hearing  her  pittiful  clamour,  the  passion  of  love  he  felt ; 
He  could  no  longer  disdain  her,  his  frozen  heart  it  did  melt : 
For  ever  she  cryed,  "  0  turn  Love,  and  I  prethee,  Love,  turn  to  me, 
For  thou  art  the  Man  that  alone  can  procure  my  liberty." 

He  said,  "My  Love,  I  will  please  thee,  thy  heaviness  grieves  me  sore  ; 
But  let  not  sorrow  once  seize  thee,  I  never  will  grieve  thee  more  : 
Fll  turn  to  thee,  my  own  kind  Heart,  dear  Love,  Til  turn  to  thee; 
For  L  am  the  Man  that  now  am  come  to  procure  thy  liberty. 

"  I'll  crown  thee  with  a  garland  of  straw  then,  and  marry  thee  with 
a  rush-ring,  l*e2rote,p.m. 

My  frozen  heart  it  will  thaw  then,  and  merrily  we  will  sing." 
But  ever  she  cry'd,  "  0  turn,  Love,  and  L prethee,  Love,  turn  to  me, 
For  thou  art  the  Man  that  alone  can  release  me  from  misery." 

Most  lovingly  he  embrae'd  her,  and  call'd  her  his  Heart's  Delight ; 
And  close  by  his  side  he  plac'd  her,  all  sorrow  was  vanquisht  quite  : 
And  now  she  for  joy  cry'd,  "Turn  Love,  fy  I  prethee,  Love,  turn  to  me, 
For  thou  art  the  Man  that  alone  hast  rehast  me  of  misery.'" 

[Original  by  Sir  William  Davenant,  stanzas  2,  11,  7,  only.] 

London,  Printed  by  and  for   W.   0[nley~],  for  A\lex.~]  M[ilboume~] 
and  sold  by  C.  Bates,  at  the  Sun  and  Bible  in  Pye- comer. 

[Black-letter.    Two  woodcuts,  on  p.  122.    Date  of  issue,  circa  1667.    Eawlinson's 
exemplar  was  printed  for  F.  Coles,  etc.,  and  earlier  than  ours.] 

124      James  Howard's  "  My  lodging  upon  the  cold  floor  is" 

Note  to  p.  122. — The  phrase  "Alas!  what  remedy  ?"  was  almost  proverbial. 
Cf.  the  refrain,  on  p.  70,  and  the  pathetic  ballad  attributed  to  Anne  Boleyne  and 
to  her  hapless  brother  George  Viscount  Rochford,  "  Death  rocke  mee  to  sleepe." 

On  p.  89  of  Eoxb.  Ballads,  vol.  v.,  the  original  and  the  lengthened  versions  of 
"  My  lodging  is  on  the  cold  ground"  were  mentioned,  and  a  promise  registered 
to  give  the  parody,  from  the  Honble.  James  Howard's  '  All  Mistaken,  or  The  Mad 
Couple '  {circa  107 1).  Nell  Gwynne  as  Mirida  sang  to  her  "  fat  love,"  Pinguister : 

MY  lodging  upon  the  cold  floor  is,  and  wonderful  hard  is  my  fare, 
But  that  which  troubles  me  more  is,  the  fatness  of  my  dear. 
Yet  still  I  do  cry,  '  0  melt,  Love,  and  I  prythee  now  melt  apace  ! 
For  thou  art  the  man  I  should  long  for — if  'twere  not  for  thy  grease. 

To  which  Pinguister  sang,  responsively  : — 

Then  prithee  don't  burden  thy  heart  still,  and  be  deaf  to  my  pitiful  moan  ; 
Since  I  do  endure  the  smai't  still,  and  for  my  fat  do  groan. 

Then  prythee  now  turn,  my  dear  Love,  and  I  prythee  now  turn  to  me ; 

For  alas  !  I  am  too  fat  [1  fear,  Love],  to  roll  so  far  to  thee. 

There  is  another  parody  on  Davenant's  song,  called  "  The  Woman's  Delight." 
Also,  similarly,  Nelly  sang  a  parody  on  '  Balow,  my  babe  ' : 

"  Lie  still,  my  babe,  lie  still  and  sleep,  \_Cf.  vol.  vi.  p.  576. 

It  grieves  me  sore  to  see  thee  weep  : 
Were't  thou  but  leaner,  I  were  glad, 
Thy  fatness  makes  thy  dear  love  sad. 

What  a  lump  of  love  have  I  in  my  arms." — Act  v.  sc.  1. 

Once  more  we  have  had  occasion  to  mention  several  of  the  Royal 
Mistresses  (of  whom  the  late  Mrs.  Anna  Jameson  wrote  her  pleasant 
popular  account,  The  Beauties  of  the  Court  of  Charles  the  Second, 
a  welcome  supplement  to  Les  Memoires  de  Gramont,  by  Compte 
Antoine  Hamilton),  we  take  the  opportunity  of  inscribing  this  present 
portion  of  our  work  to  a  still  later  writer,  our  esteemed  personal 
friend,  one  whose  own  privately-printed  Memoires  of  the  Beauties 
are  the  choicest  and  most  accurate  record,  delightful  as  trustworthy  : 



€f)is  ®roup  of  Cupit)  T5ailans, 


IS,    BY   THE   EDITOR, 


D  E  D  I  C  A  C  E. 

A     Mons,    Alexandre  -Bel j a/vie, 

Docteur  es  Lettres,  Prnfesseur  an  Lycee  Louis-le- Grand, 
Et  a,  L'Ecole  Libre  des  Sciences  Politiques, 


Le  puttie  et  le.0  I&ommes  ne  lettres  en  angleterre 
au  DMputtieme  Steele ; 







(|his  ensuing 

dSrottp  of  ^patrimonial  Baiia&s, 




SlnDrometia    J&eftitoitoa, 

TOt'tfj  a  Back  ajjcatj. 

(Apres  la  facon  du  Siecle  Vingtieme.) 

Fable  dfidide  &  Mons.  Alex.  Beljame. 

Argumentum  ad  Faminam. — Andromeda,  having  been  earlier  ensnared  by 
the  'evil-entreated  and  innocent'  Kraken  or  Sea-Dragon,  bewaileth  him 
lugubriously  to  slow  music,  affetiwso.  She  apostrophiseth  the  'naughty 
naughty  naughty  Perseus,  who  went  and  poked  a  hole  in  the  hide  of  the 
dear  delightful  creature  '  aforesaid. 

HE  tvaves  had  been  playing  their  usual  game, 
Having  wreck' d  a  few  barques  without  mercy  or  shame, 
Then  slid  themselves  circlingly  over  the  beach, 
With  a  soothing  grace,  far  as  eye  could  reach  ; 
And  the  rugged  cliff,  in  the  westering  sun, 
Seem'd  to  quite  forget  all  the  mischief  done, 
It  smiled  at  the  mariner  sailing  away, 
Tempting  him  shoreward  for  holiday. 
The  tiny  bright  cloudlets  floated  above, 
More  gaily-tinted  than  Venus's  dove, 
Having  little  to  do  save  to  shimmer,  and  fleck 
The  tranquil  Sea  that  knew  nothing  of  wreck. 
At  such  a  time,  when  the  world  lay  at  rest, 
One  troublesome  mortal  felt  sorely  oppress' d. 

What  passion  disturb' d  that  Damsel  fair, 
Who  clung  to  a  rock,  with  her  golden  hair 
Enhancing  the  charm  of  her  dazzling  neck, 
While  tears  fell  and  sighs  rose  without  a  check  ? 
Did  she  mourn  a  lost  lover,  whom  leagues  divide 
From  the  fond  embrace  of  his  promised  Bride  ? — 
Could  she  possibly  long  for  some  Argosie, 
To  bring  pearls  or  ducats  across  the  sea  ; 
Or  silks  and  brocades  to  enwrap  her  limbs, 
When  tired  of  her  bath  where  she  splashes  and  swims  ? 

My  Erie  fid,  if  so  silly  we  were,  and  blind, 
As  to  wish  to  pierce  what  a  girl  calls  '  her  mind,' 
We  should  have  a  tough  lesson  before  us  set, 
Ere  the  final  solution  we  chanced  to  get. 
I  am  not  quite  so  young  as  I  once  loved  to  be, 
But  I  knew  that  fair  Siren  who  haunts  the  sea. 

Andromeda  :  at  the  latest  market-price.  127 

Andromeda  first  was  her  name,  renown 'd 
Far  away  from  yon  rock  where  so  many  lie  drown' d. 
I  myself  can  remember  the  time  when  she  too 
Was  in  danger  and  fear,  while  the  harsh  wind  bhw, 
And  the  billows  to  overwhelm  her  strain  d, 
Where  she  stood  in  her  anguish,  shackled  and  chained, 
Till,  amid  the  turmoil  and  mad  uproar, 
Nature  exhausted  could  bear  no  more. 
Well,  perhaps,  had  no  Perseus  foreseeing  arrived, 
She  might  not  in  safety  that  storm  have  survived, 
Since  the  ravening  teeth  and  the  venomous  tail 
Of  the  fierce  Sea- Monster  drew  nigh  to  assail. 
Yet  I  heard  her  lament  {this  is  Woman's  way,) 
For  the  dear  darling  Libertine,  prone  to  slay, 
Who  had  held  such  delightful  charm  in  his  breath, 
That  she  did  not  care  much  if  'it poison 'd  to  death ; 
"And  Oh  !  what  a  naughty  sad  tiresome  man 
Was  that  Perseus,  who  loved  me ! "  her  descant  ran  : 
"  For  he  might,  had  he  pleased,  have  left  me  to  moan, 
Ever  chain'd,  as  I  chose,  to  this  Precious  Stone. 
One  would  surely  sooner  be  crunch'd  and  dead, 
Than  be  freed  by  a  man — with  Medusa's  head  !  " 

*  *  # 

*£*     The  Moral  {impressive,  for  those  who  wish) : 
Mermaidens  are  hybrids,  half-women,  half  fish, 
Though  some  daifity  people  may  choose  the  upper, 
Others  relish  the  Salmon-end — soused,  for  supper  : 
Our  experience  rebukes  that  of  many  a  Lover, 
Who  declareth  he  '  found  the  Sex  fishy  all  over  ! ' 

*  *  * 

gdT     The  /to-Moral  runs,  "Leave  them  severely  alone, 
If  they  fix  their  hearts'  love  on  Stock- fish  or  Load-stone!" 
Ls  all  Chivalry  dead  ?  since  the  Moderns  say, 
"  Let  them  go  to  the  Bow-wows,  each  in  her  ozvn  way  !  " 
Nay,  not  so  !  for  our  part,  without  favour  or  warrant, 
Our  devoir  shall  be  done,  as  a  true  Knight- Errant. 

The  Priory,  Molash, 

\%th  October,   1889. 

The  /'our  Conditions  of  Woman  full-grown, 
Maid,  Wife,  or  Widow  (Another*  swell  known), 
In  this  ancient  woodcut  are  plainly  shown  : 
Let  tin-  ' Shrieking  Sisterhood'  claim  their  own. 

fflatiantr,  rt  crs  Drmotscllrs. 

TJ/HO  says  My  Lady  is  too  proud? 

She  walks  apart  to  shun  the  crowd, 

Seven,-  in  dignity  and  grace, 

With  healthful  beauty  in  her  face  : 

So  self-assured  in  heart  and  mind, 

What  leisure  has  s/u-  to  be  kind .' 

Kate  flings  abroad  her  wanton  lure, 
I  [yraen  never  proffers  cure  ; 
With  jewels  dazzling  on  her  breast, 
Trick  d  out  for  show,  a  Jade  confest : 

her  smile  to  all  the  Town, 
Though  Prue  the  gaunt  precisian  frown. 

anwhile,  a  Country  Wife  doth  sit, 
I  nvying  Kate  her  saucy  wit, 
Her  paint  and  patches,  rings  and  m 
Tha;  "  Sure  Virtue's  not  eno* 

'•  lam  chaste,  and  meek,  r.  ved: 

But  neither  dainty-deck 'd  nor  love   , 
If  I  could  win  My  Lady's 

race  my  prayer,  she  need  not  fear  ; 

■  might  she  of  slights  complain, 
Or  n  fawning  Satyrs  feign  : 

A  Husband  true  and  faithful  Wife 

Grow  dearer  through  their  blended  life. — J .W  .E. 


<$roup  of  I5allati0 

S^atvimonial  $  ZntUS^auimonUU 

"  TENNY  is  poor,  and  I  am  poor, 
*■*      Yet  we  will  wed,  so  say  110  more  ; 
And  should  the  Bairns  you  mention  come, 
(It's  few  that  marry  but  what  have  some,) 
No  doubt  but  Heav'n  will  staud  our  friend, 
And  bread,  as  well  as  children,  send. 

"  So  fares  the  Hen  in  farmer's  yard, 
To  live  alone  she  finds  it  hard ; 
I've  known  her  weary  every  claw 
In  search  of  corn  among  the  straw  ; 
But  when  in  quest  of  nicer  food 
She  clucks  amongst  her  chirping  brood, 
With  joy  I've  seen  that  self-same  hen, 
That  scratch'd  for  one,  could  scratch  for  ten. 

"  These  are  the  thoughts  that  make  me  willing 
To  take  my  Girl  without  a  shilling  ; 
And  for  the  self-same  cause,  d'ye  see, 
Jenny's  resolv'd  to  marry  me." —  Vocal  Library,  p.  447. 

UR  FRIEND  DERVAUX  ought  to  publish 
that  book  of  his,  a  life-long  labour,  if  labour 
it  can  be  called,  which  has  been  simply  a 
sportive  task :  a  sort  of  '  Pilgrim's  Scrip,'  of 
the  George  Meredith  sort.  We  have  seen  it, 
repeatedly.  It  is  in  manuscript,  entitled, 
'  The  Sex  :  by  One  who  Knows  Them.' 
It  is  anonymous,  or  pseudonymous,  of  course; 
since  tarring-and-feathering  might  otherwise 
ensue.  Nothing  except  Cremation,  and  that 
prematurely  accelerated,  could  protect  his 
remains  (bodily,  not  literary)  from  the  vengeance  of  the  Redundant 
Sex,  were  they  to  detect  him.  They  have  never  quite  forgiven  the 
very-much-married  King  Solomon,  for  having  described  the  typical 
'Strange  Woman'  with  her  enticements,  whose  "good  man  is  not 
at  home ;  he  is  gone  a  long  journey."  (Similarly  objectionable  is 
the  "odious  woman  when  she  is  married:  "  this  expression  being 
Agur's,  not  Solomon's  own.)  True,  he  admits  that  "  whoso  findeth 
a  wife  findeth  a  good  thing,  and  obtaiueth  favour  of  the  Lord." 
But  when  were  a  man's  best  deeds  or  his  words  of  praise  accounted 
as  either  atonement  or  equivalent  for  having  uttered  hard  sayings  ? 
Sad  might  it  be  for  Dervaux,  were  his  magnum  opus  to  appear :  he 
would  encounter  more  than  a  bad  quarter  of  an  hour.  It  is  dreadful 
in  its  revelations,  harrowing  in  its  details  ;  especially  the  chapter 
devoted  to  belles-meres,  our  awful  Mothers-in-Law.  Nevertheless 
we  found   him   a  most  devoted  admirer  of   "the 

English  Mees." 

VOL.    VII. 

130     "  The  \\m]proper  study  of  mankind  is  [Wo]wa»." 

Happy  was  he,  when  philandering  by  the  side  of  some  sweet  virgin, 
who  judiciously  made  the  most  of  her  fresh  untainted  girlhood, 
with  her  light  ringing  laugh,  her  point-blank  questions,  and  her 
saucy  replies,  while  she  flitted  among  the  orchids  at  Chelsea,  or 
Highbury,  Birmingham's  paradise ;  or  watched  the  over-grown  boys 
cricketing  at  Lord's  ground,  or  the  competing  crews  of  Oxford  and 
Cambridge  on  the  river,  where  she  wore  a  ribbon-rosette  of  the 
favourite  Light-Blue  displayed  on  her  bosom  (and  the  other  colour, 
hidden  at  first,  but  ready  to  be  unveiled  by  a  slight  adjustment  of 
drapery,  in  case  Fortune  the  fickle  should  transfer  her  favour  to 
the  antagonistic  Dark-Blue  of  Isis).  Dervaux  is  well  instructed  in 
all  the  pretty  nothings,  which  a  man  ought  to  speak  or  to  hear ; 
yet  never  be  rude  enough  to  hint  that  he  possesses  earnestness  of 
purpose,  noble  ambition,  or  scorn  of  duplicity  and  petty  gossip  : 
although  loathing  the  scandalous  insinuations,  which  pass  muster 
in  society  as  being  knowledge  of  the  world.  He  has  travelled, 
studied,  jested,  and  flirted  to  some  purpose.  He  is  as  thoroughly 
at  home  in  the  Royal  Academy  on  a  '  Private  Yiew,'  or  a  Matinee 
at  the  Opera  Comique,  as  he  is  when  lounging  in  the  smoking-room 
of  the  Incroyables  ;  or  deeply  immersed  in  Black-letter  rarities  and 
Sanskrit  manuscripts,  within  a  quiet  alcove  at  the  Bodleian. 
Children  he  loves,  and  knows  how  to  amuse  them,  sharing  their 
romps,  telling  them  fairy-tales,  fabricating  toys  and  riddles.  To 
grey-bearded  comrades  he  may  sometimes  utter  the  cynical  remark, 
"What  a  pity  it  is  that  these  little  darling  boys  must  become 
conceited  prigs  of  professors,  or  noisy  radicals,  and  enter  parliament 
to  prate  and  do  mischief !  Sad,  that  these  lovely  girls  should  ever 
grow  up  to  be  worldly-minded  wives,  and  still  later  degenerate  into 
frowsy  matrons  !  "  Nobody  hears  it,  shuddering  at  its  truthful 
prophecy,  except  the  present  Editor;  and  the  Lodge  is  closely  tyled. 
Dervaux  has  many  engagements,  yet  wears  such  a  mask  of  being 
disengaged,  that  one  might  wonder  how  he  finds  time  for  those 
p  itient  studies  which  he  best  loves,  and  without  which  his  society 
could  never  have  been  prized  by  Huxley,  Tyndall,  and  Frederick 
Harrison,  no  less  than  it  was  by  Sir  jSToel  Paton  and  Sir  Ciichton 
Browne.  His  counsel  is  sought  as  an  unselfish  '  guide,  philosopher 
and  friend,'  alike  by  old  and  young;  as  of  one  who  has  been  every- 
where, has  done  everything,  seen  all  that  was  worth  seeing,  and 
known  whomsoever  he  wished,  without  effort  or  after-regret.  He 
has  lived  at  every  pore,  so  to  speak  ;  and  while  laughing  tolerantly 
at  other  men's  follies  and  hobbies,  he  seldom  allows  himself  to  be 
injuriously  carried  away  by  his  own.  Simply  to  have  lived  and 
prospered,  in  his  own  way,  yet  to  have  remained  helpful  and  hopeful 
for  the  unsuccessful ;  to  have  loved,  and  felt  the  anguish  of 
bereavement,  or  to  have  enjoyed  his  bonnes  fortunes  without  either 
boasting  or  cynicism,  is  worth  something  for  us,  and  also  for  himself. 

People  in  modern  Glass-houses  who  throw  stones.        131 

He  is  no  slanderer  of  reputations,  but  a  valiant  defender  of  all 
merit  that  is  assailed ;  a  champion  of  the  oppressed,  yet  withal 
frank  and  generous  in  fight,  so  that  even  foes  are  vanquished  better 
by  his  good  temper  than  by  arguments  or  reproaches.  Women 
never  quite  understand  him,  as  we  men  can  do,  but  he  knows  every 
secret  fibre  of  them,  and  is  ready  at  all  times  to  yield  them 
affectionate  devotion  and  unfailing  courtesy.  In  short,  he  does 
everything  except  trust  them. 

It  would  have  been  well  if  we  could  have  prevailed  on  him  to 
take  charge  of  this  "  Group  of  Matrimonial  and  Anti- Matrimonial 
Ballads,"  and  reveal  the  secrets  of  the  prison-house  for  the  warning 
of  Bachelors.  They  give  up  their  many  advantages  of  liberty  for 
the  sake  of  gaining  possession  of  the  solitary  one  article  whom  they 
foolishly  consider  to  be  indispensable ;  one  who,  in  nine  cases  out 
of  ten,  is  not  worth  the  sacrifice.  At  least,  if  she  seem  to  be  so 
at  first,  she  is  not  likely  to  remain  uncontaminated  by  the  inane 
worldliness  and  unbridled  selfishness  of  her  neighbours,  hostesses, 
or  their  guests,  with  whom  she  will  be  compelled  to  associate,  in 
such  married  life  as  our  century  has  descended  to.  If  Dervaux 
would  be  so  kind  as  to  offer  his  comment,  even  these  Roxburghe 
Ballads  (like  the  Bag  ford  Ballad  devoted  to  a  'Philosophical  Wife  ' 
reprinted  in  1873)  would  be  enriched  with  treasures  of  wisdom. 
He  is  the  last  man  to  be  ill-natured  or  unjust.  He  is  well  aware 
that  of  women's  faults  many  are  due  to  bad  instruction,  and  to 
their  having  been  linked  with  unsuitable  or  degrading  partners. 
He  admits  that  "  Marriage  brings  out  all  the  latent  evil  that  had 
been  unsuspected  in  girlhood.''  "  Look  at  the  records  of  the 
Divorce  Courts,"  says  he,  "  then  reconcile,  if  you  can,  the  ignoble 
career  of  the  flaunting  and  detected  wanton,  with  the  possibilities 
of  the  gentle  girl  who  a  short  time  before  had  stood  blushing  fair 
at  the  altar,  crowned  with  her  maiden  wreath,  and  surrounded  by 
a  troop  of  loving  bridesmaids,  each  wishing  hopefully  her  future 
happiness.  If  so  many  light  barques  are  wrecked  on  the  sea  of 
matrimony,  is  it  not  chiefly  the  fault  of  him  who  ought  to  have 
been  the  steersman,  or  the  captain,  responsible  for  keeping  others  to 
their  sailing-orders,  and  able  to  claim  unhesitating  obedience,  so 
long  as  his  own  love  continued  pure  and  firm  ?  " 

Well,  perhaps  Dervaux  is  right.  Some  folks  say  that  he  is  always 
right,  and  has  been.  He  thinks  our  age  has  fallen  into  evil  ways ; 
that  in  the  relations  of  the  sexes  towards  one  another  we  have  gone 
more  utterly  wrong  than  they  ever  did,  beyond  a  few  exceptional 
cases,  while  Charles  the  Second  was  King.  The  '  Merry  Monarch ' 
himself  never  claimed  to  be  an  immaculate  example  of  purity ;  and 
there  were  ladies  at  Court  unworthy  of  being  considered  ornaments 
of  their  sex,  beyond  the  physical  charms  of  beauty  and  elegance. 
But  any  platform  chatterer  can  now  make  capital  of  their  faults. 

132  No  call  for  the  boast  of  Social  Progress. 

None  but  an  unblushingly  bold  theorizer  would  dare  to  assert  that 
the  general  tone  of  morals,  and  the  national  recognition  of  the 
sanctity  and  continuity  of  the  marriage-tie,  were  not  infinitely 
higher  during  the  reign  of  the  last  Stuarts  than  they  have  been 
since,  during  the  early  Hanoverian  reigns ;  or,  at  the  very  lowest, 
than  they  are  at  present. 

Therefore,  Dervaux  declares,  we  may  learn  much  by  noticing 
that  all  these  Anti-Matrimonial  Ballads  of  old-time  belong  to  the 
lower  ranks  of  middle-class  life.  As  might  be  expected  of  penny 
broadsides,  intended  solely  for  the  populace,  they  are  not  records 
of  the  gentry,  and  still  less  of  the  nobility,  in  the  Stuart  times. 
The  sentimental  love-ditties  were  frequently  celebrative  of  titled 
damsels,  of  knights,  barons,  substantial  'squires  and  wealthy 
merchantmen,  if  not  of  princes  and  kings.  But  the  matrimonial 
ditties  belong  to  tradesmen,  tapsters,  husbandmen,  or  common 
sailors.  As  for  any  method  of  escape,  from  irksome  bondage  when 
evils  had  grown  burdensome,  it  was  scarcely  ever  seen  to  be  possible. 
A  wife  might  be  shrewish,  harsh,  and  incessant  in  complaint ;  but 
the  husband  had  to  remain  patient  under  her  scolding.  Sometimes 
she  broke  her  wedded  vows,  and  degraded  herself  in  unseemly 
fashion,  turning  her  dishonoured  spouse  to  ridicule,  since  no  pity 
was  shown  to  him  by  friends  in  his  scorned  estate.  '  The  Cuckold's 
Complaint'  found  no  favour,  and  deserved  none.  Our  moderns 
boast  their  superiority,  but  at  once  seek  a  solatium  in  publicity, 
and  heavy  damages  from  the  co-respondent ;  then  pocket  their 
wrongs  with  additional  profit  (despite  collusion  and  connivance) ; 
and  end  with  prevailing  on  sordid  mothers  to  sell  their  own 
daughters  into  the  ignominious  slavery  of  marriage  with  a  divorced 
man,  who  thus  becomes  an  adulterer.  Women  shuffle  themselves 
free  from  irksome  bonds,  and  assume  fresh  ties  with  a  change  of 
partner;  again  to  break  them,  so  often  as  the  humour  varies,  or  the 
depraved  appetite.  Such  disgraceful  doings,  increasingly  common 
under  our  relaxed  laws  and  corrupted  morals,  were  almost  unknown 
in  Charles  the  Second's  day,  among  the  higher  middle-class  citizens. 
If  a  bad  bargain  had  been  made,  there  was  no  shirking  any  of  the 
responsibility.  If  the  ale  had  turned  sour  for  either  partner,  the 
last  cup  of  it  must;  be  drank,  for  such  liquor  was  not  legally 
intended  to  be  wasted. 

It  is  an  excellent  rule,  when  a  bad  wife  turns  up  in  the  post- 
Stuartian  Law-reports  (and  there  are  few  daily  records  without  a 
choice  assortment  of  them),  to  make  enquiry  :  '  Was  not  half  the 
Woman's  fault  owing  to  her  having  had  a  bad  Husband  ?'  Yes  :  and 
when  we  hear  of  '  another  good  man  gone  wrong,'  it  has  none  the 
less  been  caused  by  some  heartless  jilt,  or  termagant  scold,  who 
drove  him  into  debt  and  despair.  Cherchez  la  femme !  She  is 
certain  to  be  in  it. 

"  The  World's  great  Bridals,  chaste  and  calm? 


We  have  (p.  185)  a  specimen  of  the  unreasonable  Grumhletonian, 
who  drives  a  ""Woman  to  the  Plough,"  and  himself  takes  her  duties  at 
the  Hen-roost,  but  fails.  There  are  not  so  many  '  Scolding  Wives' 
or  Shrews  in  our  collection  that  the  theme  becomes  wearisome  by- 
iteration.  In  the  "  New  Way  of  Marriage  "  (on  our  p.  158)  we  see 
the  insidious  teaching  of  such  unhallowed  and  temporary  irregular- 
connections  as  point  their  own  moral,  sadly  enough,  although  the 
loose  ballad  directs  itself  to  those  who  were  incapable  of  valuing 
the  true  delights  of  lawful  wedlock  :  the  perfect  union  of  congenial 
albeit  dissimilar  minds  :  the  mutual  dependence,  the  undeviating 
faith  of  a  virtuous  and  loving  woman  in  her  husband,  while  he 
delights  to  labour  for  her,  and  to  protect  her  from  disquietude. 

"  Yet  in  the'long  years  liker  must  they  grow  ; 
The  man  be  more  of  woman,  she  of  man  ; 
He  gain  in  sweetness  and  in  moral  height, 
Nor  lose  the  wrestling  thews  that  throw  the  world ; 
She  mental  breadth,  nor  fail  in  child  ward  care, 
Nor  lose  the  cbildlike  in  the  larger  mind  ; 
Till  at  the  last  she  set  berself  to  man, 
Like  perfect  music  unto  perfect  words  :  .  .  .  . 
Self-reverent  each  and  reverencing  each, 
Distinct  in  individualities, 
But  like  each  other  ev'n  as  those  who  love. 
Then  comes  tbe  statelier  Eden  back  to  men : 
Then  reign  the  world's  great  bridals,  chaste  and  calm  : 
Tben  springs  tbe  crowning  race  of  human-kind." 

—  (Tennyson's  Princess.) 

[These  cuts  belong  to  p.  23,  and  'A  Week's  Loving,'  etc.,  see  p.  137.] 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  385  ;   Pepys,  IV.  2i  ;   Jersey,  I.  2.] 

%\>t  Dyfortislnre  SDamosel ; 

QXy  %§t  ILonOott  a&rcjjant'g  <€gotce* 

Her  Beauty  Bright  was  his  Delight, 
But  yet  she  said  him  nay, 
She  would  not  yield  to  him  the  Field, 
Till  Marriage  made  the  way. 

To  the  Tu>*e  of,  The  Jobh  for  a  Journey -man-  Shoomaker . 

fl^Here  was  as  Fine  a  London  Blade  as  ever  trod  on  Leather, 
_L   Most  sumptuously  he  was  array'd,  his  Wigg,  his  Hat,  and  Feather : 
His  Rapier  hanging  by  his  side,  well  mounted  on  a  Gelding, 
To  Oxford  City  be  would  Ride,  to  view  the  antient  Building. 

But  he  was  no  sooner  come  there,  in  all  his  Pomp  and  Glory, 
"When  meeting  with  a  Damsel  fair,  a  sweet  and  pleasant  Story 
To  her  he  freely  did  unfold,  her  Love  to  gain  the  sooner, 
He  shew'd  her  handfuls  of  bis  Gold,  to  bring  her  into  humour.     16 

He  then  began  to  Complement,  and  sweetly  to  embrace  her, 
The  Damsel  would  not  give  consent,  that  he  should  e're  disgrace  her  ; 
Her  modest  mind  was  not  inclin'd,  nor  in  the  least  was  leaning 
Unto  his  will,  but  answer'd  still,  she  did  not  know  his  meaning. 

"  My  Love,"  said  he,  "  let  me  enjoy  with  thee  a  moment's  pleasure  ; 
My  sweetest  creature,  be  not  coy,  thou  shalt  not  want  for  treasure  : 
All  night  within  my  folded  arms,  my  love  shall  lye  and  slumber, 
"With  many  sweet  delightful  charms,  and  kisses  out  of  number."  32 

Said  she,  "Your  proffer  I  disdain,  good  Sir,  I  pray  be  civil, 
Indeed  you  now  are  much  to  blame,  to  tempt  a  maid  to  evil, 
Forbear  to  talk  at  such  a  rate.     Discretion  has  endu'd  me ; 
It  is  not  your  enchanted  bait,  that  ever  shall  delude  me. 

"  Kind  Sir,  I  pray  now  let  me  go,  I  strange[ly]  do  admire, 
That  you  should  seek  my  overthrow,  to  please  your  fond  desire ; 
If  there  in  me  be  any  truth,  I  am  resolv'd  to  tarry, 
I'le  never  pleasure  any  youth,  but  those  with  whom  I  marry."     48 

The  Damsel  thus  declar'd  her  mind,  then  without  molestation, 
His  heart  was  more  and  more  inclin'd,  he  stood  in  Admiration ; 
The  lustre  of  her  Beauty  fair  his  heart  had  so  inflamed, 
That  he  was  caugbt  in  Cupid's  snare,  before  her  love  he  gained. 

Note. — "The  Oxfordshire  Damosel "  was  mentioned  in  Bagford  Ballads,  p.  449, 
before  we  had  tracked  the  Job  for  a  Journeyman  Shoemaker,  on  which  see  p.  135. 

Oxfordshire  Damosel ;  or,  London  Merchant's  Choice.    135 

"  My  dearest  Love,  I  thee  adore,  if  thou  can'st  freely  love  me, 
I  set  by  thee  such  mighty  store,  I  fancy  none  above  thee : 
"With  thee  I  mean  to  live  and  dye,  thou  sweet  and  lovely  creature, 
Thou  art  a  jewel  in  mine  eye,  no  Lady  more  Compleater."  64 

She  could  no  longer  say  him  No,  and  now  to  end  the  quarrel, 
In  Love  they  both  together  go,  to  buy  her  Rich  Apparrel : 
She  looked  like  a  sumptuous  Dame,  in  all  her  rich  attire, 
Her  beauty  flew  on  wings  of  Fame,  his  Friends  did  all  admire. 

She  was  indeed  an  honest  Girl,  and  of  a  modest  carriage, 

He  priz'd  her  more   than  Gold  or  Pearl,  and  joyn'd  with  her  in 

Marriage : 
Now  may  she  lead  as  sweet  a  life,  as  she  is  fair  and  Pritty, 
For  now  she  is  a  Merchant's  Wife,  Of  London's  Famous  City.        80 


This  may  be  Printed.     R[oger]  L[e]  S[trange]. 

Printed  for  J.  Beacon,  at  the  Angel  in   Guilt-spur- Street  without 


[Black-letter.     Four  woodcuts.     1st  and  2nd  on  p.  42  ;  3rd,  a  Lady,  on  p.  143  ; 
4th,  two  figures,  ou  iii.  419,  Eight.     Date,  1683-5.] 

***  The  Tune -name  has  been  already  mentioned  iu  our  Bag  ford  Ballads, 
p.  449  (a  correct  guess,  as  to  the  Pepys  Collection,  IV.  180,  and  181),  in 
connection  with  the  "The  Praise  of  Laucashire  Men,"  beginning,  "You  Muses 
all  assist  my  pen,"  p.  450.  Again  in  Bagford  Appendix,  p.  976,  is  an  account 
of  several  "  Jobs  "  ;  but  the  original  ballad,  first  Part,  bears  the  name,  "A  Jobb 
for  a  Journeyman  Shoemaker,  with  a  kind-hearted  Seaman's  Wife."  Printed 
for  J.  Deacon,  beginning,  "  A  Seaman's  Wife,  a  buxom  Dame  "  (Pepys  Coll.,  IV. 
180).  To  the  Tune  of  Tom  the  Taylor,  near  the  Strand  (see  p.  189).  The 
Sequel,  sung  to  the  same  tune,  is  entitled,  "The  Seaman's  Safe  Return;  or, 
An  Answer  to  the  Jobb  for  a  Journeyman  Shoemaker."  It  begins,  "At  length 
the  Seaman  he  came  home"  (Ibid.,  IV.  181). 

A  further  Sequel  is  preserved  in  the  Douce  Coll.,  II.  170,  viz.  "The  Old 
Maid  Mad  for  a  Husband  ;  or,  The  Journeyman  Shoemaker's  Favours  turned  to 
Misfortune."  Tune,  Touch  of  the  Times.  Licensed  by  Richard  Pocock,  1685-88. 
Printed  for  J.  Blare  on  London  Bridge,  and  beginning,  "All  you  that  are  willing 
right  merry  to  be,  I  pray  you  come  hither  and  listen  to  me."  The  burdens  are 
A  Husband  is  better  than  Money  to  me  ;  and,  Because  like  a  Rascal  he  did  kiss 
and  tell. 

To  this  tune  of  A  Job  for  a  Journeyman  Shoe-maker  was  sung  the  ballad  of 
"The  Victorious  Wife,"  beginning,  "Good  people  stay,  and  hark  awhile" 
(Pepys,  IV.  134).  It  was  often  cited  as  an  alternative  with  Billy  and  Molly  (see 
p.  137,  next  ballad),  as  in  "Roger  the  Miller's  present,"  etc.,  beginning,  "A 
Damsel  came  to  London  town,"  (one  of  Tom  the  Taylor  series),  and  "  The  Last 
Lamentation  of  the  Languishing  Squire"  (Roxb.  Ballads,  vi.  228),  beginning, 
"As  I  went  forth  to  view  the  Spring."  It  was  the  same  tune  as  The  Mother 
beguiled  the  Daughter,  My  Child  must  have  a  Father  (see  pp.  32,  99,  161)  ;  also, 
probably,  it  corresponded  with  The  Touch  of  the  Times,  and  The  Country  Farmer. 


[Eoxbuighe  Collection,  II.  512  ;    Pepys,  III.  39;   Eiiing,  382;  Douce,  II.  246 

verso;   Jersey,  I.  336.] 

21  WSXttWs  JLoinng,  OflJooing  and 

cOroomg  :  or,  ^nppu  10  rijat  CCIoomg  rtjat  10  not  long 
n  Doomg. 

Here  was  a  nimble  Bridegroom,  and  a  Bride, 
In  Eight  short  days  the  long-fast  knot  was  ty'd. 

To  Tin:  Tr>'K  or  Billy  and  Molly.    [See  p.  137,  and  vol.  vi.  p.  218.] 
Licensed  according  to  Order. 

ON"  Sunday  Johnny  went  to  Church,  so  spruce,  and  neat,  and  finer; 
Cupid  lay  for  John  at  Church,  and  shew'd  him  pretty  Jinny; 
Johnny  was  shot  to  the  heart,  and  prov'd  a  zealous  Lover : 
That  Jenny  she  might  cure  his  smart,  he  was  resolved  to  more  her. 

Johnny  was  a  stitching  Blade,  and  he  could  not  work  a  Monday; 
Jinny  lov'd  the  stitching  Trade,  but  minded  John  a  Sunday  : 
He  to  her  did  make  address,  but  she  receiv'd  it  shyly; 
The  loving  truth  he  did  confess,  but  Jinny  she  was  wily.  16 

Tuesday  came,  and  Johnny  then,  profest  to  her  profoundly, 

He  lov'd  her  more  than  any  man,  and  spoke  his  Passion  roundly ; 

Jinny  she  did  love  to  spin,  as  pretty  maids  do  often, 

She  lancy'd  John  could  put  it  in,  and  that  did  Jinny  soften. 

<  hi  Wednesday  then  the  Lovers  met,  and  Johnny  prest  her  home  to't; 
He  said  his  love  was  on  her  set,  but  she  said  nought  but  mum  to't : 
Jinny  was  a  coming  Lass,  her  silence  was  consenting, 
When  John  had  brought  it  to  that  pass,  he  then  fell  to  presenting. 

A  Week's  Loving,  Wooing,  and  Wedding.  137 

On  Thursday  then  he  brought  her  store,   (what  Maid  could  have 

forsook  'em  ?) 
Of  ribbons,  gloves,  with  sundry  more,  and  she  said  '  No,'  and  took  'em  ! 
Johnny  was  a  Lover  free,  tho'  bound  in  Jinny's  Tetters, 
Jinny  lov'd  as  well  as  he,  tho'  she  might  'a  had  his  Betters. 

On  Friday  Johnny  ask'd  her  what  she  had  to  say  against  it; 

She  said  there  was  two  words  to  that,  for  fear  she  shou'd  repent  it; 

But  John  he  did  her  so  perswade,  that  she  gave  no  denial, 

But  said  he  should  be  her  own  Blade,  and  put  it  to  the  Trial.        48 

On  Saturday  there  ne'er  was  seen  such  Billing,  and  such  Cooing, 
Jinny  and  her  John  between  ;  such  Kissing  and  such  Wooing. 
Thus  both  agreed  in  Love  to  speed,  concluded  on  the  morrow, 
That  they  would  AVed,  and  so  to  bed,  and  sport  away  all  sorrow. 

On  Sunday  they  to  Church  did  goe,  where  Love  first  had  beginning, 
The  Parson  he  made  one  of  two,  so  the  Business  had  an  ending; 
John  and  Jinny  marry'd  were,  0  !  merry  night  of  Sunday  ! 
Pretty  Maids  do  not  Despair,  'twill  be  your  own  case  one  day.     64 

Printed  for  P.  Brooksby  at  the  Golden  Ball  in  Pye-corner,  J. 
Deacon  at  the  Angel  in  Gilt-spur-street,  J.  Blare  at  the  Looking 
Glass  on  London-bridge  near  the  Church,  J.  Back  at  the  Black 
Boy  on  London-bridge  near  the  Draw-Bridge. 

[In  Black-letter.     Three  -woodcuts,   1st  and  2nd,  are  on  p.  133,   as  for  'The 
Country  Weaver'  of  p.  22  ;   the  3rd  is  on  p.  136.     Date,  circa  1684-94.] 

*#*  To  the  same  tune  of  Billy  and  Molly  ( =  Willy  and  Molly,  beginning, 
"Says  Billy  to  Molly,"  Pepys  Coll.,  III.  34)  went  four  other  ballads:  1st.— 
'  John  and  Betty'  (concerning  the  virtue  of  Cherry-Stones)  =  "  Now  the  weather 
grows  warm;"  2nd. — 'The  Distressed  Virgin,'  beginning  "Was  ever  poor 
Maid  in  such  distress?  "  (Pepys  Coll.,  III.  52,  and  IV.  58) ;  3rd.—'  The  Happy 
Young  Man'  =  "By  a  brook  beneath  a  shade;"  4th. — 'The  Witty  Chamber- 
maid' =  "  There  was  a  Lass  in  London  Town."     (Ibid.,  III.  78,  and  IV.  143.) 

Our  own  week's  work,  of  loving,  wooing  and  wedding,  recalls  a  Nursery  rhyme. 

I  Married  my  Wife  on  a  Sunday ;  She  call'd  me  a  fool  on  Monday  ; 
I  bought  a  stick  on  Tuesday,  to  beat  my  Wife  on  Wednesday ; 
My  Wife  fell  sick  on  Thursday  ;  my  Wife  she  died  on  Friday; 
Glad  was  I,  on  Saturday  night,  to  bury  my  Wife  on  Sunday  ! 

Whether  this  satisfactory  "week's  work"  was  in  strict  sequence  to  "A  Week's 
Loving,"  etc.,  is  a  question  which  we  unfortunately  neglected  to  ask  of  the 
oldest  inhabitant,  from  whose  traditional  report  we  accurately  transcribe  this 
Golden  Legend.  There  being  no  mention  of  any  '  Crowner's  Quest,'  following 
hard  on  a  post-mortem,  Dr.  Dryasdust  opines  that  the  event  must  be  dated 
before  the  epoch  of  Martin  Lessamour  and  Pedlar's  Acre  at  Lambeth  ;  not  to 
say  also  antecedent  to  the  reproduction  of  Hamlet  in  1602.  We  fear  that 
a.d.  925  (when  Coroners  were  mentioned)  may  appear  too  early  a  date  for  the 
artless  lay,  with  a  stick;  or  even  1275,  when,  according  to  Stow,  those  officers 
were  by  Statute  of  Westminster  appointed  for  every  County,  3  Edward  I.  In  all 
such  municipal  details  we  may  safely  swear  '  by  Gomme ! ' 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  IV.  4.     Apparently  unique.] 

21  S^attl)  at  a  Venture ; 

£>r,  Cnne  ant)  £)pporrumtp  toon  tJ)c  Dap. 

Being,  a  Discourse  of  OSootncj  bctfoicn  Etna  ILodcvs. 

The  Young-man  Courted  her  with  Compliments  most  rare, 

And  all  his  mind  to  her  he  boldly  did  declare  ; 

She  still  held  off,  and  was  so  stiff  inclin'd, 

And  would  not  quickly  let  him  know  her  mind  : 

Until  that  Cupid  with  his  Golden  Dart  \_C'f.  iii  532. 

Had  made  a  wound,  and  piere'd  her  tender  heart  : 
And  then  she  yielded  his  True  Love  to  be, 
They  now  are  Married,  and  live  most  gallantly. 

Ttne  of,  Jenny,  come  tye  my  bonny  Cravat.     [See  Note,  p.  140.] 

AS  I  in  the  fields  was  walking  along, 
I  heard  a  young  couple  was  talking  anon, 
"I  do  love  thee  most  dearly,  fair  Maiden,"  said  he, 
"  And  thou  shall  be  my  true  love  until  I  do  dye  ; 
For  Cupid  has  wounded  my  poor  love-sick  heart, 
I  must  break  my  mind  now  before  we  depart. 

A  Match  at  a  Venture.  139 

"  I  will  buy  thee  Scarfs,  and  I  will  buy  thee  Gloves, 

That  is  fitting  for  suitors  to  give  to  their  loves, 

And  jewels  and  bracelets  that  shall  be  most  rare, 

If  thou  wilt  but  be  my  true  love  and  my  dear ; 
I  am  thy  true  lover,  thou'll  be  my  own  dear, 
1'le  ne'r  be  false  to  thee,  thou  needest  not  fear."  12 


"Kind  young-man.  I  thank  you  for  your  good  will, 

Yet  poor  silly  Maidens  had  need  try  their  skill ; 

You  promise  more  in  an  hour  then  you  do  in  seven  year, 

It's  hard  for  to  trust  any  Man  I  do  swear ; 
They  be  so  false-hearted,  and  given  to  lye, 
They've  caused  many  a  Maiden  to  weep  and  to  cry. 

"  It's  not  your  cunning  baits,  nor  your  nimble  tongue, 
Such  words  as  those  has  done  many  Maids  wrong  ; 
Therefore,  honest  young-man,  you  are  not  for  me, 
A  good  Service  is  better  than  a  Wife  for  to  be  : 

I  take  great  delight  for  to  live  a  Maid's  life, 

There's  far  greater  trouble  belongs  to  a  Wife."  24 

Young -man. 

"  Sweet-heart,  now  thou  mak'st  me  to  smile  in  conceit, 

Now  hear  me  a  word  more,  I  do  thee  intreat ; 

If  thou  wilt  but  love  me  as  I  do  love  thee, 

And  joyn  now  in  wedlock  my  wife  for  to  be : 
There's  never  a  woman  in  England,  I  swear, 
Shall  ha'  more  content  then  thou  shalt  have,  my  dear. 

"  Tho'  some  be  false-hearted,  and  often  do  swear, 

0  do  not  blame  all  men  for  one,  my  own  dear  : 

He  is  worse  than  a  Jew,  that  has  a  good  wife, 

And  loves  her  not  as  dear  as  he  loves  his  own  life : 
And  let  her  want  nothing  that  she  doth  require, 
But  be  loving  and  faithful  unto  her  desire."  36 


"  Indeed,  honest  Man,  I  tell  you  now  true, 

There's  many  men  more,  I  say,  besides  you, 

That  has  said  and  sworn  as  much  as  you  say, 

And  have  proved  knaves  to  their  wives  the  first  day : 
That  never  takes  care  for  one  thing  or  other, 
Their  wife  and  their  children  may  starve  altogether. 

"  It  behoves  all  Maidens  that  live  single  lives, 
How  they  marry  with  men  for  to  be  their  wives ; 
Some  will  misuse  them  both  sober  and  drunk, 
And  use  them  no  better  than  the  whore  their  Punk. 
We  see  enough  every  day  of  those  which  are  wed, 
How  barely  they  go,  and  how  hardly  they'r  fed."  48 


A  Match  at  a  Venture. 


"  Indeed,  pretty  Maiden,  thy  words  are  most  true, 
But  do  not  believe  it  shall  be  so  with  you  : 
My  state  and  ray  purse  shall  be  at  thy  command, 
Say  what  shall  be  done,  and  thy  word  it  shall  stand  : 
And  grant  but  thy  favour  my  wife  for  to  be, 
Nothing  shall  be  wanting  that  can  pleasure  thee." 


"  Why  then,  honest  young-Mnn,  you  shall  be  my  dear, 

I'le  venture  in  marriage  without  any  fear ; 

You  shall  be  my  Husband,  I  will  be  your  wife. 

And  live  loving  together  all  days  of  our  life." 
The  Young-man  rejoyced  the  same  for  to  hear, 
When  she  had  yielded  to  be  both  his  Miss  and  his  dear. 

Now  in  the  conclusion,  they  appointed  a  day, 
And  next  to  the  Church,  and  were  marry'd  strait  way, 
With  consent  of  their  friends ;  and  to  end  my  ditty, 
They  live  loving  together  in  London's  fair  City ; 

And  loving  and  gallantly  they  do  agree, 

And  a  pattern  to  other  true  lovers  may  be.  G6 


Printed  for  J.  Deacon,  at  the  Rain-boiv  in  Ilulbom,  near  St. 

Andrew's  Church. 

[In  Black -letter.     Four  woodcuts  :   1st  and  2nd  are  on  p.  138  ;   3rd  and  4tli  are 
below,  and  they  belong  also  to  pp.  114,  187.     Date,  etieu  1680.] 

*#*  The  tune  cited  on  p.  138  belongs  to  a  Pepysian  ballad  (the  burden  is, 
1  Jenny  come  tye  my  bonny  Cravat '),  beginning,  "  As  Johnny  met  Jenny  a  going 
to  play  ;  "  with  its  Roxburghe  sequel,  "As  Jenny  sate  under  a  Sycamore  tree." 
Neither  of  them  yet  reprinted. 


[Roxburg-he  Collection,  IV.  62.     Apparently  unique.] 

%ty  more  ^aste,  tt)e  toorse  S>peeD ; 


&\)i  Unfortunate  fHafti's  (Complaint,  in  prfuate  as  she  "bit)  gtt, 
Beuuj  jjiftecn  Hears  of  age,  anil  neucr  a  Suitor  get. 

To  the  Tune  of,    0  no,  no,  no,  not  yet ;  or,  What  shall  I  do,  shall 
I  dye  for  love  ?    [See  Note  on  p.  142,  and  ballad  in  vol.  vi.  p.  246.] 

WAs  ever  Country  Maid  perplext,  having  both  wealth  and  feature, 
Or  anything  Nature  directs,  to  make  a  prudent  Creature, 
As  I,  even  I,  which  makes  me  oft  so  solitary  sit ; 
For  Fifteen  years  of  age  I  am,  and  never  a  Suitor  yet. 

The  Fifty  Pounds  to  portion  I,  upon  my  Marriage  day, 

Pull  truly  paid,  I  tell  no  lye,  then  mark  what  I  shall  say ; 

My  Mother  she  oft  hath  told  she  would  a  Husband  get ; 

For  Fifteen  years  [of  age  I  am,  and  never  a  Suitor  yet.]  16 

There  was  a  Maiden  in  our  town  was  Married  at  Fourteen  ; 
Then  would  not  that  make  me  to  mean  that  am  not  all  so  green  : 
Besides  my  comely  person,  I  am  of  a  pregnant  wit  ; 
For  Fifteen  years  [of  age  I  am,  and  never  a  Suitor  yef\. 

Besides  the  thoughts  of  waxing  old,  should  stir  Young-men  to  Wed; 

Besides,  less  fear  of  taking  cold  when  two  are  in  a  bed ; 

With  many  other  things  wherewith  I  could  a  Husband  fit; 

For  Fifteen  \_years  of  age  am  I,  and  never  a  Suitor  yet].  32 

To  brew  and  bake  it's  usually  perform'd  by  Country  Maids, 
And  therefore  them  I  will  pass  by,  to  speak  of  other  trades, 
Who  through  imployment  may  have  need  more  of  a  Woman's  wit : 
For  Fifteen  [years  of  age  am  I,  and  never  a  Suitor  yet]. 

If  I  should  be  a  Yintner's  wife,  I  should  become  the  Bar, 

As  well  as  doth  a  drum  or  fife,  within  a  field  of  war  : 

To  cry,  '  Boy,  shew  these  gentlemen,  a  room  where  they  may  sit ; ' 

Yet  Fifteen  years  of  age  am  I,  and  never  a  Suitor  yet.  43 

And  if  a  Cook  should  marry  me,  I  well  can  raise  his  paste, 
Of  any  fashion  that  may  be  upon  a  Table  plac'd  : 
Or  any  other  Dish,  1  can  both  garnish  and  make  fit ; 
Yet  Fifteen  years  of  age  am  I,  and  never  a  Suitor  yet. 

NAy,  if  a  Shoomaker  me  wed,  his  Shop-Thread  I  can  spin ; 
Although  it  by  myself  is  said,  there's  few  our  Town  within, 
Por  all  the  points  of  Huswifry,  that  can  each  Trade  so  fit, 
And  Fifteen  years  of  age  am  I,  and  never  a  Suitor  yet.  64 

142  The  more  Haste,  the  worse  Speed. 

The  Taylor's  Needle  I  can  thred,  if  haste  should  so  require, 
Of  several  colours,  green  or  red,  pleasing  to  his  desire  : 
Make  answer  to  a  man,  while  he  doth  at  the  Ale-house  sit ; 
Yet  Fifteen  [years  of  age  am  I,  and  never  a  Suitor  yet]. 

If  that  a  Glover  raarrys  me,  part  of  his  Trade  I  know, 
Whether  it  plain  or  prick-seam  be,  that  makes  the  braver  show; 
And  truly  for  to  work  the  same,  I  know  [what]  Leather's  fit; 
Yet  Fifteen  [years  of  aye  am  I,  and  never  a  Suitor  yet].  80 

And  if  I  should  a  Weaver  have,  either  of  silk  or  linnen, 
This  can  I  do  and  money  save,  which  is  a  good  beginning  ; 
Either  wind  silk,  or  fill  his  quills,  'tis  either  I  can  fit ; 
Yet  Fifteen  [years  of  aye  am  I,  and  never  a  Suitor  yet]. 

If  I  should  be  a  Saylor's  wife,  I  can  with  plummet  sound, 

To  know  how  many  fathom  length  the  Ship  bears  from  the  ground : 

[Thus]  I  do  know  his  Compass  well,  with  many  things  so  fit; 

Yet  Fifteen  [years  of  aye  am  I,  and  never  a  Suitor  yet].  96 

But  yet  for  all  my  forward  care,  great  grief  it  is  to  tell, 
Not  any  man  falls  to  my  share,  that  far  or  near  doth  dwell  : 
There's  not  a  Maid  my  Mother  keeps  but  straight  a  Husband  gets; 
Yet  Fifteen  [years  of  aye  am  I,  and  never  a  Suitor  yet]. 

I  am  perswaded  now  that  I  shall  hardly  live  this  year, 

But  even  a  silly  Maiden  dye,  which  causeth  many  a  tear 

To  gush  forth  of  these  chrystal  eyes,  and  much  disturb  my  wit ; 

That  Fifteen  [years  of  aye  am  I,  and  never  a  Suitor  yet].  112 

I  hope  there's  none  will  take  distaste,  because  I  speak  my  mind, 
For  all  that  in  the  same  is  plac'd,  whoever  trys  shall  find 
Both  Portion  and  these  properties,  of  which  1  here  have  writ : 
Yet  Fifteen  [years  of  aye  am  I,  and  never  a  Suitor  yet]. 

If  any  Tradesman  I  have  nam'd  within  himself  can  find, 

By  that  description  I  have  fram'd,  that  I  can  please  his  mind: 

Go  marry  all  about  my  years,  so  may  ye  on  me  hit ; 

For  Fifteen  years  of  aye  am  I,  and  never  a  Suitor  yet.  128 


Printed  by  P.  Brooksby,  at  the  Golden-ball,  near  the  Hospital-gate, 

in   West- Smithf eld. 

[In  Black-letter.  Four  woodcuts.  1st,  the  oval  draped  portrait  of  Maria  of 
Alodeua,  vol.  vi.  155,  left;  2nd,  the  James  II.,  vi.  153,  right;  3rd,  and  4th, 
are  on  p.  143.  Date  of  Brooksbifs  present  issue  1672-1694.  The  original  was 
entered  to  Thomas  Lambert,  in  the  Stationers'  Registers,  12  March,  163*.] 

*+*  Of  the  two  tunes  named,  one,  0  no,  no,  no,  not  yet,  was  mentioned  in 
vol.  vi.  pp.  557  and  .583.  It  agrees  with  the  tune  of  III  never  love  thee  nunc, 
given  in  the  late  William  Chappell's  Popular  Music,  p.  380.  Printed  in  vol.  vi. 
p.  246,  is  "  Virginity  grown  troublesome,"  which  gave  second  name  to  the  tune, 
from  its  burden  of  ''What  shall  1  do,  shall  I  dye  for  love,  and  never  have  my  will?" 


CJje  Otrtuous  a^aitrs  Eesolution. 

JjEFOKE  reaching  "The  Wonderful  Praise  of  a  Good  Husband," 
we  listen  to  the  praise  of  a  still  greater  rarity,  A  Good  Wife.  It  is 
a  memorable  ballad,  with  an  often-mentioned  burden  :  In  my  freedom 
is  all  my  joy  !     Tune  of,  I  am  a  poor  and  harmless  Maid. 

*#*  The  tune -name  (altering  the  tense)  might  possibly  have  been  suggested 
from  the  first  line  of  a  unique  ballad  (Rawlinson  Collection,  566,  fol.  104), 
entitled,  "  The  Young  Ladie's  Complaint  against  her  deceitful  Gallant ;  Being  a 
Caution  for  all  Females  to  have  a  care  how  they  are  deluded  by  great  Pretences. 

This  song  in  plain  terms  now  does  make  appear 

That  Ladies  in  their  loves  deceived  are  : 

Then  let  all  other  maidens  have  a  care 

How  they  be  catcht  in  a  false  tempting  snare. 

To  a  New  Tune,  called,  I  was  a  harmless  Maid."  This  is  the  first  line  of  the 
ballad  itself,  written  by  L[au].  W[hite] ;  Licensed  by  Roger  L'Estrange,  before 
August  1685;  and  printed  for  F.  Coles,  T.  Vere,  J.  Wright,  IV.  Thackeray,  and 
T.  Passinger,  all  of  whom  earlier  held  our  ballad  as  their  property.  But  we 
doubt  this  "Complaint"  having  been  the  line  cited.  '  Was '  might  easily  be 
changed  to  '  am '  in  the  loose  way  habitual  at  the  time  ;  but  to  interpolate  an 
additional  adjective  '  poor  and,'  without  authority  and  thus  alter  the  rhythm, 
doubles  the  improbability  of  identity.  There  is  a  ballad  beginning  "  I  am  a  poor 
distressed  Maid,"  one  entitled  "  The  Mournful  Maiden's  Complaint  for  the  Loss 
of  her  Maidenhead  ;  or,  A  Caution  to  other  Maidens  to  take  warning  by."  The 
tune  of  it  is,  Old  Ale  has  undone  me.  (This  is  the  burden  of  John  Wade's 
Bagford  Ballad,  see  Hoxb.  Bds.,  vol.  vi.  p.  "273,  274  ;  the  same  tune  as  his  Tlie 
Maid's  the  best  that  lies  alone.)  With  allowance.  Printed  for  J.  Hose,  over 
against  Staples- Inn,  in  Moulbourn,  near  Grays  Inn  Lane.  This  might  be  the  true 
"  I  am  a  poor  and  harm/ess  Maid." 

Whatever  original  name  the  present  tune  may  have  had,  this  ballad  conferred 
one,  references  becoming  frequent  afterwards  to  In  my  freedom  is  my  joy,  which  is 
the  chief  burden.  Its  own  third  stanza,  beginning,  "lama  young  and  harmless 
Maid,"  appears  to  be  the  most  probable  fountain-head  of  the  tune-name  attached 
to  it,  lam  a  poor  and  harmless  Maid. 

[These  two  cuts,  without  the  flower,  belong  to  p.  142  ;  the  Lady  also  to  p.  135.] 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  552  ;  Pepys,  III.  37  and  54;  Eawlinson,  25.] 

Ci)e  flllertuous  S$aii)f8  Resolution ; 

Showing  what  ITnconstaut  Men  there  be,  that  use  Deceit  and  Flattery  ; 
They'll  cog,  dissemble,  swear  and  lye,  a  Harmless  Maiden's  Life  to  try  ; 
To  all  such  Lovers  she'll  be  coy,  and  says,  'My  Freedom's  all  my  Joy.'' 

To  the  Tune  of,  I  am  a  poor  and  harmless  Maid,  etc.    [See  p.  143.] 

IN  a  melancholly  passion  I  was  walking  by  a  river  [w]ide, 
A  gallant  Damsel  I  did  spy  ;  a  lute  she  had  lay  by  her  side, 
Which  up  she  took,  and  did  sing  and  play, 
That  in  her  freedom  was  all  her  joy,  "  0  in  my  freedom's  all  my  joy  !  " 

I  stept  aside,  because  I'd  hear  the  full  conclusion  of  her  song, 
Her  musick  ravish'd  so  mine  ear,  as  on  the  ground  I  lay  along. 
Then  did  she  sweetly  play,  "  0  in  my  freedom' 's  all  my  joy  !  "       12 

"lama  young  and  harmless  Maid,  and  some  are  pleas'd  to  stile  me  fair, 
There'snoman  yet  hath  ambush  laid,  to  catch  me  but  I  break  the  snare : 
What  though  they  count  me  nice  and  coy,  yet  in  my  freedom' s  all  my  joy. 

"  Most  young  Men  have  alluring  words,  poor  silly  Maidens  to  betray, 
Such  complements  they  can  afford,  that  we  can  hardly  say  them  nay  : 
But  let  them  term  me  nice,  and  coy,  0  in  my  freedom's  all  my  joy  ! 

*'  "With  oaths  and  protestations  great,  sometimes  they  seek  to  try  their 

When  all  the  while  they  mean  deceit,  for  to  obtain  their  wanton  will  : 
And  seek  their  utmost  to  destroy  our  utmost  and  our  chief  est  joy .   30 

"  With  amorous  words  and  speeches  fair,  they'll  promise  that  they 

ne'r  will  do, 
But  of  such  youngsters  I'd  beware,  for  fear  I  afterwards  should  rue  : 
What  though  they  count  me  nice  and  coy,  yet  in  my  freedom's  all  my  joy. 

Yet  in  my  freedom 's  all  my  joy. 

"  Alluring  baits  also  they  have,  as  silver  bodkins,  gloves,  and  rings, 
With  girdles,  scarves,  and  jewels  brave,  and  many  other  costly  things; 
13ut  those  silver  hooks  shall  ne'r  destroyer  in  my  freedom's  all  my  joy. 

"  Whatsoever  they  give,  talk,  or  say,  I'll  ne'r  believe  them  e'er  the  more, 
Their  smoothing  words  shall  not  me  betray,  I'll  stand  to  what  I  said 

Although  they  count  me  nice  and  coy,  [_yet  in  my  freedom's,  etc.] 

"  Yet  I  could  quickly  be  in  love,  if  I  on  honest  man  could  find, 
That  would  once  true  and  constant  prove,  aDd  not  be  wavering  like 
the  wind  ;  A  little  time  I  w ill  be  coy  \_yet  in  my  freedom' '«],  etc." 

The  Virtuous  Maid's  Resolution.  145 

[£fte  Secant;  Part.] 

HEre  in  this  Second  Part  you'l  find  a  Husband  pleasing  to  her  mind ; 
This  vertuous  Maid  hath  one  obtain'd,  though  long,  at  last  her 
love  was  gain'd, 
She  saith  her  Husband  she'll  obey,  And  in  his  love  shall  be  her  joy. 

And  thus  she  did  conclude  her  song,  which  having  done,  I  up  did  rise, 
My  heart  was  struck  with  love  so  strong,  her  beauty  dazled  both 

mine  eyes ; 
My  freedom  then  she  did  destroy,  for  in  her  love  was  all  my  joy. 

"When  she  espy'd  me  where  I  was,  she  l-ose  and  would  no  longer  stay, 
I  stept  unto  [her]  then,  because  my  heart  she  bore  with  her  away  : 
"  Fair  Maid,"  said  I,  "do  not  destroy  my  freedom,  and  my  chief  est  joy.'''' 

She  blushing  then,  to  me  did  say,  "I  do  desire  no  company." 

"  Fair  Maid,"  said  I,  "  0  say  not  nay  to  him  that  means  no  flattery  : 

You  have  my  heart,  0  be  not  coy,  in  you  is  all  my  earthly  joy. 

"  Sweet-heart,"  said  I,  "few  words  I  use,  but  what  I  speak  is  from 

my  heart, 
I  scorn  your  vertue  to  abuse,  then  grant  me  love  e'er  I  depart : 
Your  freedom  I  will  not  destroy,  for  in  your  love  is  all  my  joy." 
With  that  she  took  me  by  the  hand,  and  led  me  up  by  the  river  side, 
"  If  that  you  true  and  constant  prove,"  quoth  she,  "  perhaps  I'll  be 

your  Bride." 
Then  on  her  lute  did  sing  and  play,  Be  constant,  and  Til  he  thy  joy. 

I  then  made  bold  to  crave  a  kiss,  which  modestly  she  to  me  gave, 
I  took  it  for  a  heavenly  bliss,  her  comely  gesture  was  so  brave : 
I  thought  it  long  to  see  the  day  wherein  I  might  my  Love  enjoy. 
But  to  conclude,  we  married  were,  I  have  obtain'd  a  vertuous  "Wife  ; 
And  at  the  last  I  brought  to  pass  what  she  to  others  had  deny'd : 
Although  at  first  she  seemed  coy,  she  calls  me  now  her  only  joy. 
Young  Men  and  Maids  where  e're  you  be,  that  hear  this  song,  I'd 

wish  you  learn 
A  pattern  by  our  civility,  then  Lovers  true  you  may  discern, 
For  them  that  seek  for  to  destroy  your  freedom  [will  be  all  your  joy~\. 
Vertue  beyond  all  beauty  goes,  but  he  that  gains  them  both  is  rare, 
Only  for  wealth  let  no  man  choose,  for  constant  love  is  void  of  care ; 
A  vertuous  Wife  will  ne'r  destroy  your  freedom,  but  will  be  your  joy. 

London  :  Printed  by  and  for  W[iUiam\  0\nley\,  for  A.  Melbourne], 

and  are  sold  by  J.  Beacon. 

[In  Black-letter.  Eawlinson's  printed  for  E.  Burton,  and  sold  by  F.  Coles,  T. 
Vere,  J.  Wright,  and  /.  Clarke.  Two  woodcuts,  the  lady,  of  p.  78,  and  the 
man,  of  p.  206.     Date  of  the  ballad's  earlier  issue,  circa  1674.] 

VOL.    VII. 



anontictful  IPraise  of  a  <$ooD  rpustmnt!, 

Mrs.  Page. — "  Your  Husband's  here  at  hand." — Merry  Wives,  iii.  3. 

0  this  Roxhurghe  Ballad  there  is  extant  an  authorized  Sequel 
(Pepys  Coll.,  IV.  89).  It  is  entitled  "  An  Answer  to  the  Praise  of 
a  Good  Husband  ;  or,  The  Dutiful  Daughter's  Fortunate  Marriage." 
It  was  issued  by  the  same  publisher,  sung  to  the  same  tune,  My  life 
and  my  death,  etc.,  and  was  similarly  licensed  by  Richard  Pocock : 
"This  may  be  printed,  R.P."  It  begins  with  a  line  that  had  been 
the  burden  of  the  antecedent  ballad:  "  Good  Husbands  are  Jewels 
far  better  than  Gold!"     Then  follows  the  verse  Argument :  — 

Her  tender  mother  she  obey'd,  who  did  good  Counsel  give, 
And  was  resolv'd  to  live  a  Maid,  while  she  might  happy  live 
In  love  free  from  all  care  and  strife  :  in  thissbe's  not  to  blame, 
For  now  she  is  a  Merchant's  Wife,  and  lives  in  worthy  fame. 

This  shows  a  similar  disposition  for  celibacy  in  the  dutiful  daughter 
to  that  displayed  by  our  '  Oxfordshire  Damosel '  (pp.  134,  135), 
and  a  similar  ending ;  for  we  learn  that  she  accepted  a  good  offer  : 

"  Now  may  she  lead  as  sweet  a  life  as  she  is  fair  and  pretty, 
For  now  she  is  a  Merchant's  Wife,  of  London's  famous  city." 

There  are  also  two  companion  ballads,  balancing  the  respective 
admonitions  to  the  two  sexes,  as  in  our  Church  Matrimonial  Service 
(which  admittedly  with  suggestive  force  begins  "  Dearly  Beloved," 
and  ends  with  "Amazement,"  even  as  wedlock  itself  so  often  does). 
One  is  entitled  '  The  Married  Man's  best  Portion  ;  or,  A  new  Song 
plainly  setting  forth  the  Excellency  and  incomparable  Worth  of  a 
good  Wife,  also  how  much  Happiness  doth  continually  attend  upon 
that  man  that  enjoys  her.'  To  the  tune  of  Fancied  Phoenix  [p.  42]. 
It  begins,  "Amongst  those  worldly  joyes,"  etc.  Burden,  There  is 
no  Comfort  in  this  life,  Like  to  a  constant  loving  Wife.  London, 
printed  for  W.  Thackeray,  T.  Passinger,  and  W.  Westwood.  The 
other  is  '  The  Batchelor's  Guide,  and  the  Married  Man's  Comfort.' 
It  begins,  "All  Batchelors  now  come  hearken  to  me,"  1685-88. 
Burden,  A  Wife  that  is  loving  .  .  .  she  deserves  a  good  man. 

***  Here  are  two  alternative  and  distinct  tunes  named  for  our  present  ballad. 
1st.  My  Life  and  my  Death  are  both  in  your  power.  The  story  of  this  has  been 
fully  told  on  pp.  47,  48,  ante.  2nd,  alternative  tune,  is  The  Poor  Man's  Counsellor 
[or,  The  Marry'd  Man's  Guide],  a  ballad  reprinted  on  a  later  page.  It  is  Roxb. 
Coll.,  II.  266,  and  III.  396;  begins,  "  Come,  friend,  if  thy  leisure  permit  thee 
to  stay,"  and  is  appointed  to  be  sung  to  the  tune  of  '  The  Poor  Man's  Comfort,' 
a  Pepysian  and  Rawlinson  ballad,  beginning,  "  Mv  heart  is  oppressed  with  sorrow, 
sweet  Wife."  '  Counsellor '  and  '  Comfort'  were  printed  for  F.  Coles,  W.  Thackeray, 
and  T.  Passinger.  «  Comfort '  marked  to  the  tune  of  Fair  Angel  of  England  (see 
Roxb.  Ballads,  i.  181),  agreeing  in  music  with  Bonny  sweet  Robin  [is  all  my 
joy],  of  lost  words  except  the  line  quoted  by  Ophelia  in  Samlet,  act  iv.,  and 
"  My  Robin  is  to  the  greenwood  gone."     (See  Popular  Music,  p.  234.) 



[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  532 ;  Pepys,  IV.  88  ;  Jersey,  II.  233.] 

Wtyt  aJHortDerfttl  i&ratoe  of  a  dfoolr 

^ugbano;  or,  %§z  fcmii  ano  careful  #otgcc'0  Counsel 
to  gee  SDauggrcr. 

Bad  Husbands  they  oft  run  astray,  as  being  most  unkind  ; 
But  Good  we  see,  will  always  be  of  a  far  better  mind. 

Tune  of,  My  Life  and  my  Death  ;  or,  The  Poor  Man's  Counsellor. 

|Ear  Daughter,  I'de  have  thee  to  take  special  care 
With  whom  thou  dost  marry,  for  why  ?   I  declare, 

Bad  Husbands  occasion  much  sorrow  and  grief, 

It  seldom  or  never  affords  a  relief. 

Besides,  in  their  humours  they'l  ne'r  he  controuVd, 
Good  Husbands  are  Jewels  far  better  than  Gold. 

Some  men  are  so  wilful  they'l  spend  all  their  store, 

And  say,  when  'tis  gone,  they  can  labour  for  more  ; 

This  resolute  humour  will  bring  them  to  know, 

In  time  of  affliction,  much  sorrow  and  woe. 
For  Friendship  is  scarce,  and  Charity's  cold, 
Good  Husbands  [_are  Jewels  far  better  than  Gold'].  12 

That  Maid  that  shall  wed  an  Extravagant  Man, 

Altho'  she  may  labour  and  do  what  she  can, 

Yet  all  is  in  vain,  for  if  he  does  consume, 

Yet  trouble  and  sorrow  must  needs  be  her  doom. 
Dear  Daughter,  I  tell  you  I  knoio  this  of  old, 
Good  Husbands  \_are  Jeioels  far  better  than  Gold]. 

Some  women,  when  marry'd,  great  Portion  have  brought ; 

Yet  riotous  husbands  their  ruine  hath  wrought : 

For  those  that  will  lead  an  extravagant  life 

Regards  not  the  tears  of  a  sorrowful  Wife. 

Their  houses  are  mortgaged,  and  livings  are  sold, 

Good  Husbands  are  Jewels  far  better  than  Gold.  24 

To  gaming,  and  hawking,  and  hunting  they'l  ride, 

With  drinking  and  feasting  with  harlots  beside  ; 

Full  quickly  will  squander  and  waste  their  Estate, 

And  they  may  be  sorry  when  it  is  too  late. 

Loose  living  ivill  bring  them  to  want  when  they're  old, 
Good  Husbands  are  Jewels  far  better  than  Gold. 

Whenever  a  Spend-thrift  is  seen  to  pass  by, 

"  There  goes  a  good-fellow  !  "  his  cronies  will  cry  ; 

"An  honest  true  heart  too,"  this,  this  is  their  tone, 

"  Alas  !  he  is  no  body's  foe  but  his  own." 
But  yet  loife  and  children  much  sorrow  behold, 
Good  Husbands  [are  Jewels  far  better  than  Gold].  36 


The  Wonderful  Praise  of  a  Good  Husband. 

Your  Ale-wives  they  flourish  in  silks  and  black  baggs, 
While  poor  men,  their  clyents,  are  cloathed  in  raggs  ; 
They  laugh  when  they  see  an  old  Spend-thrift  carrouse, 
Because  they  do  feed  on  the  sweat  of  his  brows. 
But  yet  they  tvill  slight  him  tohen  e're  he  grows  old, 
Good  Husbands  [are  Jewels  far  better  than  Gold~\. 

To  speak  of  their  vertues  I  now  may  at  large, 
They'l  tender  their  Wives,  and  provide  for  their  charge ; 
Nothing  shall  be  wanting  that  they  can  provide, 
Both  meat,  drink,  and  cloathing,  with  all  things  beside. 
Providing  in  Summer  for  Winter  thaVs  cold, 
Good  Husbands  [are  Jewels  far  better  than  Gold"].  48 

They,  like  the  industrious  Bee,  will  delight 
To  labour,  and  bring  home  their  profit  at  night ; 
If  such  a  kind  Husband  you  happen  to  have, 
Your  duty,  dear  Daughter,  will  then  be  to  save  ; 
jLnd  likewise  be  loving,  not  given  to  scold, 
Good  Husbands  [are  Jewels  far  better  than  Gold']. 

When  Wives  by  their  Husbands  are  dearly  ador'd, 

No  greater  a  Blessing  the  world  can  afford; 

In  troubles  or  crosses,  or  what  may  befall, 

Good  Husbands  will  still  bear  a  share  in  them  all  ; 
And  in  their  kind  arms  their  siveet  Wives  will  infold, 
Good  Husbands  [are  Jewels  far  better  than  Gold].  60 

Jim's.         This  may  be  Printed,  R[ich].  P[ocock]. 

[In  Black-letter.  Colophon  shorn  off  by  Pearson's  sheet-mounter ;  but  the 
Pepys  exemplar  says  '  Printed  for  /.  Deacon,  at  the  sign  of  the  Angel  in  Guilt- 
spur -street.'  Four  woodcuts:  1st,  the  lady  of  p.  45;  2nd,  another,  wry- 
mouthed,  of  vi.  76;  3rd  and  4th,  men,  of  vi.  163,  left,  and  173,  ri^ht, 
respectively.  Date,  Licence,  1685-88.   This  woodcut  belongs  to  p.  45  and  p.  150.] 



[Eoxburglie  Collection,  III.  88  ;  Douce,  II.  216  verso.J 

SDtalogue  ftettoeen  Thomas  and  John. 

lit  tf)t  pzaiw,  anti  otgpratge  of  Momtn,  ano  Mine. 

Thomas  against  the  "Women  doth  contend, 
But  John  most  stoutly  doth  their  cause  defend. 
Young  and  Old,  read  these  lines  that  ensue, 
You'l  all  confess  that  which  I  write  is  true. 
I  know  no  reason,  but  that,  without  dispute, 
This  may  as  well  be  printed,  as  sung  to  Lute. 

To  a  gallant  delightful  new  Tune,  well  known  amongst  Musitioners, 
and  in  Play-houses,  called,   Women  and  Wine.     [See  p.  153.] 

Ome  Women  are  like  to  the  Wine,  like  the  Sea,  and  like  the  Rocks; 
But  they  that  proves  them  soon  may  find  'em  like  the  Win[dj 
and  Weather-Cocks :  .  [text,  'Wine.* 

But  if  you'l  believe  me,  Fie  tell  you  true 

What  light  Women  are  like  unto  : 
Wine,  Wine,  Women  and  Wine,  thus  may  you  compare  them  too. 

Women  most  constant  Men  do  find,  not  like  the  Sea,  hut  like  the  Rocks; 
They  are  evermore  loving  and  kind,  not  like  the  Wine  and  Weather- 
Cocks.     But  if,  etc.  18 

Women  have  hooks,  and  women  have  crooks,  so  hath  the  Wine,  so 

hath  the  Wine,  [Scilicet,  the  Fine. 

Which  draws  great  Lawyers  from  their  books,  so  will  the  Wine,  so 
will  the  Wine.     But  if,  etc. 

Women  have  beauty  and  fair  looks,  so  hath  the  Wine,  so  hath  the  Wine; 
Far  surpassing  the  Lawyers'  books,  more  than  the  Wine,  more,  etc. 
But  if  you'l  believe  me,  Fie  tell  you  true 

What  good  Women  are  like  unto  : 
Wine,  Wine,  Women  and  Wine,  thus  may  you  compare  them  too. 


WOmen  are  witches  when  they  may,  so  is  the  Wine,  so  is  the  Wine, 
Which  causeth  men  from  their  wives  to  stray,  so  will  the 
Wine,  so  will  the  Wine. 
But  if  you'l  believe  me,  Fie  tell  you  true, 

What  light  Women  are  like  unto  : 
Wine,  Wine,  Women  and  Wine,  thus  may  you  compare  them  too. 

150  Dialogue  in  Praise  of  Women  and  Wine. 

"Women  are  witty  when  they  may,  so  is  not  Wine,  so  is  not  Wine, 
And  causeth  Men  at  home  to  stay,  so  doth  not  "Wine,  so  doth  not 
Wine.     But  if,  etc,  54 

Women  have  arms  for  to  imbrace,  so  hath  the  Wine,  so  hath  the  Wine, 
"Which  brings  brave  gallants  to  disgrace,  so  doth  the  Wine,  so  doth 
the  Wine.     But  if,  etc. 

Women  most  sweetly  do  imbrace,  more  than  the  Wine,  more,  etc., 
And  save  their  Husbands  from  disgrace,  so  doth  not  Wine,  so  doth 
not  "Wine.     But  if,  etc.  72 


"Women's  tongues  are  like  sharp  swords,  so  is  the  Wine,  so  is  the  "Wine, 
Which  urgeth  men  to  swear  damn'd  [Words],  so  doth  the  Wine,  so 

doth  the  Wine.      But  if,  etc.  [Text  has'  Oaths.' 

Women's  tongues  do  speak  sweet  words,  so  doth  not  Wine,  so,  etc. 
They  can  perswade  from  damned  Oaths,  so  will  not  Wine,  so  will 
not  Wine.     But  if,  etc.  90 

Women  they  do  use  to  change,  so  doth  the  Wine,  so  doth  the  Wine, 
And  oftentimes  abroad  do  range,  when  Sun  doth  shine,  when  Sun 
doth  shine.     But  if,  etc. 

Good  Women  they  will  never  change,  so  will  the  Wine,  so  will,  etc., 
For  profit  they  abroad  will  range,  Hail,  Rain,  or  Shine,  Hail,  Kain, 
or  Shine.     But  if,  etc.  108 

Women  they  will  fight  and  brawl,  fill'd  with  Wine,  fill'd  with  Wine, 
Their  Husbands  they  will  Cuckolds  call,  inflam'd  with  Wine,  inflam'd 
with  Wine.     But  if,  etc. 


Good  Women  they  will  comfort  all,  like  the  best  Wine,  like,  etc., 
What  ever  sorrow  doth  befall ;  so  will  good  AVine,  so  will  good  Wine. 

But  if  yoiCl  believe  me,  Fie  tell  you  true 
What  good  Women  are  like  unto  : 

Wine,  Wine  !  Women  and  Wine,  thus  you  may  compare  them  too. 

Printed  for  J.  Williamson,  at  the  Sun  and  Bible,  in  Cannon-street, 

neer  London-stone. 

[Black-letter.   Cut3  :  1st  and  2nd  in  vol.  i.  24  ;  3rd  on  p.  148.  Date,  circd  1665.] 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  451 ;  Pepys,  III.  154  ;  Jersey,  II.  236.] 

%obias'  2ttMce ; 

£)r,  0  HUme&p  for  a  ranting  goung-^an* 

"While  you  are  single  you  take  but  little  care, 

Therefore  I  say,  Better  you  married  were ; 

Perhaps  there's  some  at  this  will  make  a  jest, 

But  I  say  still  a  married  life  is  best. 

Therefore  young  men  take  this  Advice  of  me, 
Better  take  one  than  run  to  two  or  three. 

To  the  Tune  of,  Daniel  Cooper  [vide  p.  152].     By  Tobias  Bowne. 

OK  May  morning,  as  I  walkt  forth,  I  to  my  self  was  musing ; 
Thought  I  what  a  Fool  am  I  in  truth  that  I  so  long  am  chusing ; 
For  Maids  enough  are  to  be  had,  I  to  my  self  was  thinking, 
Sure  I  will  have  one,  good  or  bad,  to  keep  me  out  of  drinking. 

Yet  some  there  be  have  said  to  me,  '  A  single  life  is  gallant ; ' 
But  where  is  he  that  I  can  see  that  lays  up  any  Talant  ?     [Cf.p.  161. 
They'l  say,  '  We'l  live  so  all  our  life,  for  marriage  we'l  prevent  it;' 
But  where  is  he  without  a  wife  that  can  live  well  contented  ?       16 

For  marriage  is  a  thing  ordain'd,  and  what  man  can  deny  it  ? 
If  my  true-love  doth  constant  prove,  I  am  resolv'd  to  try  it : 
He  that  doth  live  a  single  life  I  count  a  simple  action, 
But  if  you  get  a  loving  Wife,  that  will  be  satisfaction. 

I  pray  observe  what  I  do  speak,  you'l  say  these  lines  are  witty ; 
How  many  hearts  you  cause  to  break  in  country,  town  and  city, 
And  then  you  think  to  cast  it  off,  and  turn  it  to  a  laughter ; 
You  think  that  you  do  well  enough,  but  pray  mark  what  comes  after. 

"When  I  was  young,  I  did  the  like  ;  then  I  was  brisk  and  bonny ; 
Sometimes  [to]  walk  abroad  all  night,  and  so  spent  all  my  money ; 
But  now  I  see  it's  vanity,  I'le  strive  for  to  prevent  it, 
I'le  go  no  more  to  seek  a  whore :  I'm  with  my  wife  contented.     40 

All  you  stand  by,  I  ask  you  why  that  marriage  should  be  slighted  ? 
Sure  you  may  say,  as  well  as  I,  '  young  men  are  over-sighted :  ' 
But  here  you  run,  &  there  you  run,  and  count  yourselves  brave  fellows, 
But  if  that  One  you  had  at  home,  she'd  keep  you  from  the  Alehouse. 

A  young  man  said  that  he  would  wed,  but  he  airn'd  at  promotion ; 
He  fain  would  have  a  wife  in  bed,  but  not  without  a  portion  : 
I  call'd  him  Fool  unto  his  face,  I  did  not  like  his  speeches; 
Said  I,  '  Take  thou  a  virtuous  lass,  she's  better  far  than  riches.'   56 

If  once  you  get  a  loving  mate,  and  you  abroad  are  ranting, 
You'l  think,  Why  shall  I  stay  out  late,  my  wife  she  finds  me  wanting  ; 
I  will  haste  home  unto  my  choice,  she  shall  not  for  me  tarry  : ' 
And  if  you  will  take  my  advice,  I  think  it  good  to  marry. 

152  Tobias'  Advice,  and  Tohie' a'_JSxperience. 

And  then  you  may  live  happily,  he  hut  a  little  thrifty  ; 
Sure  if  you  spend  your  time  away  till  you  do  mount  to  fifty, 
And  then  a  wife  you  chance  to  have,  you  may  become  a  Father  ; 
You'l  say,'  What  money  might  I  havesav'd,  had  I  heen  married  rather.' 

And  so  I  bid  you  all  adieu,  I  hope  you  don't  deny  me, 
I  do  not  speak  to  you  or  you,  but  all  that  stand  here  by  me. 
It's  but  a  penny  once  [in]  your  life,  the  Ballad's  ready  for  ye  ; 
And  so  I  wish  you  a  good  wife,  when  that  you  chance  to  marry ! 

Jim's.     Printed  for  P.  Broohby  in  Py[e~]-corner. 

[In  Black-letter,  with  four  woodcuts.  1st,  the  two  figures  in  a  park,  as  in 
p.  136  ;  2nd,  a  small  figure  of  a  man  holding  a  parchment  with  a  seal 
attached,  and  a  dog  beside  him  :  3rd  and  4th,  the  woman  and  man  of  vol.  vi. 
p.  78.  Date,  1672-94.  The  name  of  the  tune  being  cited  in  its  earlier  use, 
Daniel  Cooper  (see  vol.  vi.  pp.  6  and  520),  and  not  the  later,  Tom  the  Taylor 
near  the  Strand  (cf.  p.  188,  ballad  entered  to  Jonah  Deacon  in  Stat.  Registers, 
12  June,  1684),  indicates  the  date  of  "  Tobias'  Advice  "  as  1672-83.] 

CotJie'0  amricc  anB  OBrpcrience.  ' 

Froth. — "I  thank  your  "Worship.     For  mine  own  part,  I  never  come  into  any 
room  in  a  Tap-house  but  I  am  drawn  in." — Measure  for  Measure,  ii.  sc.  1. 

IjOXCERNING  TOBIAS  BOWXE  and  his  Ballads,  see  the  lists  of  them  in 
our  vol.  iv.  pp.  342,  343,  and  vol.  vi.  pp.  158,  159. 

'  Tobie's  Experience '  of  the  various  tricks  and  allurements  employed  by  the 
hostesses,  tapsters  and  bar-maidens  of  his  time,  might  have  entitled  it  to  come 
into  our  previous  '  Group  of  Trades,'  but  the  close  connection  of  matrimonial 
squabbles  with  the  husband's  public-house  improvidence  sufficiently  justify  the 
ballad  being  inserted  here  ;  not  to  mention  the  probability  of  this  Tobie  being 
the  same  as  the  Tobias  Bowne  whose  "  Advice  "  in  favour  of  marriage  forms  its 
befitting  prelude.  In  the  posthumous  volume  of  his  Essays  and  Phantasies,  1881, 
the  late  James  Thomson,  in  a  "  "Word  for  Xantippe,"  generously  pleaded  for 
mitigation  of  the  penalty  universally  decreed  against  the  long-suffering  spouse  of 
Socrates.  So  did  Amy  Levy's  '  Xantippe.'  Each  volume  by  the  author  of  The  City 
of  Dreadful  Night  deserves  loving  attention.  But  the  banquettiugs  and  discussions 
of  philosophy,  de  omnibus  rebus  et  quibusdam  a/iis,  that  kept  the  divine  Athenian 
Silenus  so  many  hours  apart  from  his  wife  and  family,  and  also  from  the  useful 
handicraft  which  should  have  furnished  funds  to  maintain  them  in  comparative 
comfort  instead  of  squalor  and  penury,  were  not  so  far  removed  in  kind  from  the 
revelry  which,  to  men  of  lower  instincts,  the  Ale-house  afforded  "J«  the  merry 
old  times  of  our  ancestors  ;  In  the  merry,  merry,  merry  old  times  !  " 

"Tobias'  Observation"  (although  not  in  the  Boxburghe  Collection),  being 
a  sequel  to  his  "Fairing  for  young  Men  and  Maids,"  and  signed  by  Tobias 
Bowne,  as  was  "  Tobias'  Advice,"  is  added  on  p.  155. 

belongs  to  a  ballad  in  vol.  iii.  p.  363  ;  with  two  Sequels/in  iii.  366,  and  iv.  17. 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  450.     Apparently  unique.] 

Cotrie's  experience  explain'!)  ♦ 

Good  Fellows  all,  whatever  you  be, 
I  pray  take  this  advice  of  me : 
Strength  will  decay,  Old  Age  will  come, 
Therefore  save  something  while  you're  young. 

To  the  Ttjjte  of,  That  Dill  Doul.     [See  Note,  below.] 

GOod  Fellows  all  I  pray  draw  near, 
To  what  I  here  have  lately  pend. 
You'l  say  'tis  true  I  do  not  fear, 
And  take  the  author  for  your  friend  : 
For  by  experience  I  have  seen 
How  Landlady s  draw  good  Fellows  in, 
With  "  Pray  come  in,  will  not  you  stay, 
I  have  not  seen  you  this  many  a  day."  8 

"  Come  Joan,  where  is  our  Maid  gone  ? 
Bring  a  chair  for  this  honest  man. 
Come,  pray  sit  down,  you'l  stay  so  long 
To  smoak  a  pipe,  e're  you  are  gone." 
Such  tricks  they  have,  and  ten  times  worse, 
To  draw  the  coyn  out  of  your  purse, 

With  "  Pray  sir,  stay,  toill  you  go  away  ? 

I  have  not  seen  you  this  many  a  day."  16 

Aud  then  she'l  whisper  in  your  ear, 
"  Pray  Sir,  will  you  drink  ale  or  beer  ? 

Joan,  fill  a  flaggon  of  the  best, 

This  is  my  friend,  and  my  old  guest ; 

And  something  more  I  will  you  tell, 

Tou  are  a  man  that  I  love  well, 

And  you  shall  stay,  you  shall  not  goe  away, 

I  have  not  seen  you  this  many  a  day."  24 

And  then  perhaps  a  Maid  maybe 

Will  come  and  smile  up  in  your  face, 

And  She'l  sit  down  upon  your  knee, 

To  keep  you  longer  in  that  place  : 

Then  you  may  kiss,  and  something  more, 

So  long  as  you  have  money  in  store; 
These  are  the  ba\_i~\tes  which  they  do  lay, 
Poore  honest  men  for  to  betray.  32 

*  The  tune  named  That  Dill  Doul,  from  "  The  Maid's  Complaint "  (reprinted 
in  Bagford  Ballads,  p.  552,  1877),  was  used  with  Women  and  Wine,  p.  149. 

154  Tobie's  Experience  Explained. 

Some  Landladys  have  got  the  gout, 

They  scarce  can  turn  their  ar[m]s  about, 

They  are  so  lazy,  and  so  fat, 

Their  money  is  so  easily  got : 

Some  do  complain  of  the  Excise, 

But  I  am  sure  that  poor  trades  men  pays  ; 

Their  measure  now  is  made  so  short, 

That  we  may  pay  full  three  pence  a  quart.  40 

A  labouring  man  must  work  all  day, 
For  meat  and  one  poor  sixpence  pay, 
If  in  an  Ale  house  once  he  went, 
How  quickly  is  that  sixpence  spent  ; 
Therefore  go  not  into  their  dore, 
For  they  are  fat  enough  before. 

But  mind  your  wife  if  you  have  one, 

And  let  these  fat- ar[_m' 'd~\e  dames  alone.  48 

Good  Fellows  all,  that  stand  here  by, 
Will  you  say  this  my  song's  a  lye  ? 
I  think  you  may  confess  it's  true, 
And  so  I  say  as  well  as  you. 
It  is  so  publick  to  be  seen, 
What  tricks  they  have  to  draw  men  in, 
With  "  Pray  come  in,  will  not  you  stay  ? 
Pray  call  ivhen  you  do  come  this  way."  56 

How  happy  might  we  live,  and  brave, 
If  we  our  money  did  but  save, 
And  not  maintain  those  lazy  queens 
That  never  doth  take  any  pains, 
Nor  toyl,  nor  wag  out  of  their  chear, 
To  draw  a  man  a  pot  of  Beer, 

But  call  the  maid,  "  Where  is  she  gone  ? 

Draw  some  leer  for  this  honest  man."  64 

And  so  I  do  conclude  and  end, 

I  pray  observe  what  here  is  pen'd, 

B[u]ye  one  of  them,  both  great  and  small,   [i.e. broadsides,  n.b. 

And  put  them  up  against  your  wall : 

The  price  a  penny,  and  that's  not  dear, 

'Twill  save  you  two  pence  in  a  year. 

And  so  I  hope  you'' I  gain  thereby  : 

I  end  having  no  more  to  say.  72 

Jhu's.         [Possibly  by  Tobias  Bowne.] 
Printed  for  P.  Broohsby,  in  West  Smithfield. 
[Black-letter.    One  woodcut,  as  in  vol.  vi.  p.  475.    Date,  between  1692  and  1693.] 


[Pepys  Collection,  III.  155;  Huth,  II.  102;  C.  22,  e.  2,  fol.  217.] 

Cotrias'  HDbsettoation, 

A  Young-man  came  unto  a  Fair,  by  chance  lie  met  his  true  Love  there, 

Said  he,  "  Sweet-heart,  thou  art  welcome  here,"  invited  her  to  drink  some  Beer, 

But  in  the  end  prov'd  ne'r  the  near,  as  in  this  Song  it  will  appear. 

Tune  of,   The  Countrij  Farmer.     [See  p.  152.]     By  Tobias  Bowne. 
This  may  be  printed,  R.  P[ocock]. 

THere  was  a  Young-Man  who  lately  exprest 
His  love  to  a  Damsel  that  lived  in  the  West ; 
And  thus  he  began  his  mind  to  declare, 
Said  he  "  Thou  art  welcome  unto  this  Fair ! 
I  have  a  great  mind  with  thee  to  talk, 
Come  pray  let  us  to  the  Tavern  walk, 
I'le  do  thee  no  harm,  thou  need'st  not  fear, 
For  Fairing  I'le  give  thee  one  fiaggon  of  Beer. 

"  Pray  how  doth  your  Father  and  Mother  at  home  ?  " 

"  They  were  well  this  morning,"  then  answered  Joan. 

Said  he,  ' '  If  you  please  to  walk  with  me, 

We  will  be  as  merry  as  merry  may  be  : 

To  tell  thee  the  truth,  I  do  love  thee  dear, 

Yet  I  am  so  doubtful  my  mind  to  declare 

For  fear  what  I  ask  you  should  me  deny. 

And  then  for  your  Love  I  shall  surely  die.  16 

' '  I  hope  you  will  not  offended  be, 

Though  I  be  so  bold  to  speak  unto  thee, 

For  night  nor  day  I  can  take  no  rest, 

For  Love  that  lies  harbour'd  within  my  breast. 

And  thou  art  she  that  can'st  ease  my  pain, 

Then  grant  me  love  for  love  again : 

Give  me  some  kind  answer  my  heart  to  ease, 

And  let  me  not  languish  in  Love's  disease." 

The  Maid's  Answer. 

"  Good  Sir,  I  do  fancy  you  jeer  at  me, 

Your  Riches  and  mine  will  never  agree, 

For  I  am  a  poor  Man's  daughter,  it's  known, 

I  work  for  my  Living  abroad  and  at  home. 

Sometimes  Ime  at  home,  to  spinning  of  Yarn,  {text,  '  whom.' 

And  sometimes  abroad  to  reaping  of  Corn, 

Sometimes  in  the  Field  to  milk  the  Cow  : 

I  get  what  I  have  by  the  sweat  of  my  brow.  32 

"  I  live  as  well  contented  as  any  Maid  can, 

What  need  I  entangle  my  self  with  a  Man  ? 

I  walk  where  I  please  at  my  own  command, 

I  need  not  say  '  Shall  I,  pray  shall  I,  husband  ? ' 

Now  I  have  my  self  to  guide  and  to  rule, 

In  marrying  some  people  have  played  the  Fool : 

Methinks  it  is  troublesome  to  be  a  Nurse, 

When  children  are  froward  and  husbands  are  worse. 

"  Yet  for  your  Love  I  have  no  cause  to  deny, 

Since  you  deserve  one  that  is  better  than  I ; 

For  you  have  a  good  estate  of  your  own, 

And  I  am  a  poor  Man's  Daughter  it's  known. 

Yet  I  am  content  with  what  little  I  have, 

Perhaps  if  I  marry  I  may  be  a  Slave ; 

Therefore  I'le  beware  how  I  marry  in  hast[e], 

For  fear  I  have  cause  to  repent  at  the  last."  48 

156  Tobias'  Observation. 

The  Man's  Answer. 

"0  prithee,  my  dearest,  take  pitty  on  me, 

No  one  in  the  World  I  fancy  but  thee, 

And  do  not  abuse  me  for  loving  thee  dear, 

I'le  willingly  tarry  for  thee  one  whole  year. 

NotbiDg  shall  be  wanting  thy  mind  to  fulfil, 

So  thou  wilt  but  grant  me  thy  Love  and  good  Will ; 

But  if  thou  deny  me,  and  love  thou  hast  none, 

Then  surely  thy  Heart  is  as  hard  as  a  Stone. 

"  Sweet-heart,  prethee  tell  me,  I  know  you  well  can, 

Whether  you  do  fancy  another  young-man  ? 

Pray  pardon  my  boldness  in  asking  so  far, 

Or  to  any  other  ingaged  you  are  ? 

My  dearest,  resolve  me,  if  you'l  be  so  kind, 

That  will  be  great  ease  to  my  troubled  mind, 

But  if  from  all  other  Men  thou  art  free, 

I  shall  live  in  hopes  that  my  Bride  thou  wilt  be."  64 

The  Maid's  Answer. 

"  Good  Sir,  you  pretend  a  great  deal  of  good  will, 

Yet  T  am  not  ready  your  mind  to  fulfil, 

For  I  have  no  fancy  to  be  made  a  Wife, 

Nor  ne'r  was  concern'd  with  no  man  in  my  Life. 

And  for  to  live  single  it  is  my  delight, 

And  so,  honest  young-man,  I  wish  you  good-night. 

Pray,  by  your  leave,  let  me  pass  by  you,  young-man, 

For  now  it  is  high  time  for  me  to  be  gone." 

The  Man's  Answer. 

"  And  must  thou  begone,  and  no  longer  wilt  stay  P 

Then  I  wish  I  had  not  'a  seen  thee  this  day, 

For  now  I  am  troubled  with  doubt  and  with  fear, 

Because  I  am  slighted  for  loving  so  dear. 

Young-men  I  advise  you,  where  ever  you  be, 

If  Cupid  do  hit  you,  then  think  upon  me  ; 

Although  you  love  dearly,  yet  never  declare 

Unto  any  Damsel  the  love  that  you  bare."  80 

[Tobias  Bowne  adds  his  usual  commercial  Note.] 

And  so,  having  ended,  I  wish  you  all  well, 

Each  young  man  and  maid  to  the  place  where  you  dwell ; 

But  yet  I  would  have  you  one  penny  bestow, 

And  that  is  the  price  of  this  Ballad  you  know.  [N.B. 

You  know  it  is  good  to  learn  Children  to  Bead, 

It's  fit  for  a  Young-man  to  sing  to  a  Maid  ; 

It  is  good  for  pastime  on  each  holy-day, 

And  here  be  the  Ballads,  come  buy  them  away ! 

Printed  for  P.  Brookshj,  at  the  Golden  Ball  in  Pye-  Corner. 

[In  Black-letter.  Three  woodcuts.  1st,  the  Exuberant  Matron  receiving  the 
Minikin  Swain  =  Boxb.  Ballads,  iii.  367;  2nd,  the  not-to-be-trifled-with  Court 
Lady,  of  vi.  61 ;  3rd,  the  fat  flying  Cupid,  of  vi.  50.  Date,  as  registered  by  the 
Stationers'  Company,  3rd  August,  1687;  but  licensed  by  B.  P.,  7th  June,  1686.] 

***  Possibly  by  Tobias  Bowne  is  yet  another  Tobias  ballad,  viz.  "  Toby's  Delight," 
or,  "  An  Encouragement  of  poor  young  Men  and  Maids,"  beginning,  "Thou  art 
she  whom  I  love  dearly  "  ( Douce  Coll.  ,11.  215) :  given  later,  before  next '  Group. ' 



Cfje  Jfteto  ©3ap  of  a^artiap. 

"  How  oft,  when  press'd  to  Marriage,  have  I  said, 
'  Curse  on  all  laws  but  those  which  Love  has  made  ! 

Love,  free  as  air,  at  sight  of  human  ties 

Spreads  his  light  wings,  and  in  a  moment  flies. 

Let  wealth,  let  honour,  wait  the  wedded  dame, 

August  her  deed,  and  sacred  be  her  fame  ; 

Before  true  passion  all  those  views  remove  ; 

Fame,  wealth,  and  honour  !  what  are  you  to  Love  ?  .  .  . 

Should  at  my  feet  the  world's  great  master  fall 

Himself,  his  throne,  his  world,  I'd  scorn  them  all ; 

Not  Ccesar's  Empress  would  I  deign  to  prove  ; 

No,  make  me  Mistress  to  the  man  I  love. 
If  there  be  yet  another  name  more  free, 
More  fond  than  Mistress,  make  me  that  to  thee  !  " 

— Pope,  Epistle  of  Eloisa  to  Abelard,  1717. 

UE,  Group  of  '  Anti-Matrimonial  and  Matrimonial  Ballads  ' 
would  have  been  sorely  incomplete  had  it  lacked  this  out-spoken 
profession  of  the  Free-Love  heresy,  as  here  contained  in  "  The  New 
Way  of  Marriage."  Whenever  the  debate  arises  as  to  the  balance 
struck  between  advantages  and  disadvantages  of  celibacy  as  contrasted 
with  those  of  wedlock — the  single-blessedness  which  peradventuie 
is  merely  a  pseudonym  for  single-'  cussedness,'  stale  virginity,  or 
crabbed  bachelorhood  as  the  case  may  be — there  are  always  some 
impure  minds  certain  to  make  their  vicious  inclinations  known,  in 
favour  of  illicit  connection,  while  rebelling  against  what  they  deem 
the  '  conventional  tyranny'  of  even  the  best-adjusted  marriages. 

Nobody  wishes  to  cramp  the  Muse  from  her  higher  flight,  or 
from  her  boldest  wanderings  ;  nobody,  at  least,  who  is  Anybody. 
We  tolerate  a  great  deal,  we  even  laughingly  admire,  quote  and 
echo,  many  an  audacious  stanza  that  embodies,  with  more  or  less  of 
music  and  neat  precision,  sentiments  that  might  well  deserve  severe 
censure  if  proclaimed  in  a  sober  prose  treatise,  or  with  the  rant  and 
howling  of  the  professional  demagogue,  or  the  iconoclastic  heterodox 
preacher.  School-girls  are  permitted  to  read  unchecked  Pope's 
Eloisd 's  Epistle  to  Abelard,  Tennyson's  Vivien,  and  Mrs.  Browning's 
Aurora  Leigh.  It  is  scarcely  doubtful  that  had  these  themes  been 
given  in  the  form  of  prose  novels,  they  would  have  been  banished 
as  corrupting  influences  ;  and  certainly  it  is  demonstrable  that  the 
banishment  would  have  been  a  wise  precaution.  "  The  New  Way  of 
Marriage,"  passing  the  Licenser  unfettered,  met  "with  Allowance." 
So  well :  but  grown-up  people  need  neither  a  grandmotherly  Home- 
Secretary,  nor  Laputa  Clarke,  to  tabulate  a  fresh  Index  Ex  pur  gator  ins 
suitable  to  their  own  narrow  opinions  of  prurient  propriety.  Such 
prudes  outrun  the  pseudonymous  "  Thomas  Maitland  "  himself  in 
scenting  impurity.  Whatever  bane  is  in  this  Roxburghe  Ballad, 
and  p.  181,  the  antidote  is  in  Tobias  Bowne's  "Advice"  on  p.  151. 



[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  381;  Douce,  II.  165;  Jersey,  I.  181.] 

%\)t  igeto  JKUap  of  Carriage ; 


0  pleasant  Contract  bcttotcn  John  and  Kate. 

Marriage  that  simple  Contract  still  doth  bind, 
And  mittigate  the  freedom  of  the  mind ; 
Kate  for  prevention  of  that  endless  strife, 
Will  be  a  Mistris  rather  than  a  Wife. 

To  a  Pleasant  New  Tune.  With  Allowance. 


^Earest  do !  You  easily  may, 
The  place  is  agreeing  to't ; 
And  no  one  can  see  us  do't ; 

Then  don't  delay: 
The  torment  is  so  great  that  I  endure, 
That  you  must  immediately  kill  or  cure ; 
For  time  admits  of  no  demurr 
In  such  a  case  as  this : 
I'd  rather  dye,  than  be  so  nigh, 

And  reap  not  bliss." 


"  0  kind  John,  why  so  fast? 
Yet  for  all  this  clatter, 
I  know  no  such  matter  ; 

There's  no  hast: 
I'm  not  at  leisure  yet  to  be  undone, 
Though  you  languish  still  in  pain,  and  make  moan ; 
Let  the  Parson  speak  some  words, 
And  we  shall  soon  agree ; 
For  my  mind  is  to  be  hind, 

Onely  to  thee."  20 


"  Dearest  Love,  think  what  you  say, 
If  once  the  Parson  prove  it, 
You  never  can  remove  it, 

Night  nor  day. 
Marriage  is  a  tye  does  fools  confine, 
They  no  sooner  enter  in,  but  repine  ; 
Then  who  would  feed  in  one  poor  Dish, 
And  that  unwholsome'  drest : 
"When  he  is  sure,  he  can  procure 

A  nobler  Feast  ? 

The  New  Way  of  Marriage.  159 

"  Then  dear  Kate,  my  only  joy  ; 

I  have  a  way  more  easie, 

And  that  I  know  will  please  thee, 

Mark  what  I  say  : 
"We  will  the  modish  way  of  love  pursue,      Iie-  a  la  mode- 
Love  and  lye  without  a  tye,  yet  still  be  true  ; 
Thus  in  each  other's  joys  will  we 
Receive  the  rapt'ing  bliss, 
And  this  shall  all  the  contract  be, 

Seal'd  with  a  kiss."  40 


"  But,  dear  Join,  it  is  well  known, 

Young-men  their  love  doth  last 

~No  longer  than,  the  pleasure's  past,  ["then." 

And  so  be  gone. 
Therefore  if  you  mean  with  me  to  ease  your  mind, 
To  this  you  must  immediately  be  confin'd, 
That  you  on  none  but  me  do  build 
Tour  faith  and  love  alone  ; 
Then  I  will  thus  enviting  yield  : 

Come,  dear  John." 


"  Dearest,  since  you  thus  comply, 
I  plight  my  faith  in  trust, 
And  to  it  will  be  just, 

Until  I  dye : 
My  fancy  shall  no  more  a  roving  flye, 
But  to  thee  I  constantly  will  tye : 
Till  we  have  acted  what  we  meant, 
And  cloy'd  each  other's  heart, 
Then  as  we  came,  with  joynt  consent, 

We'l  kiss  and  part."  60 

"  "Well,  kind  John,  my  love  you  have  won, 
I  like  this  indifferent  well, 
When  either  with  enjoyment  swell, 

To  stay,  or  be  gone. 
Then  don't  with  Courtship  sue,  you've  gain'd  the  field; 
But  to  pleasure  pay  its  due : 

I  freely  yield." 
Being  thus  agreed,  they  went  away, 
All  sorrows  to  remove  : 

Within  each  other  to  enjoy  the  sweets  of  Love.  JtrttS. 
Printed  for  P.  Broohhj,  at  the  G[oldcn~]  Ball  in  West-smith-field. 
[Black-letter.    Three  cuts,  one  on  p.  216  ;  two  on  vol.  vi.  p.  205.  Date,  1672-94.] 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II  I.  166,  167  ;  Pepys,  I.  292.] 

Cfje  EtntJ=J)eattetJ  Creature; 


The  prettiest  Jest  that  er'e  you  knew, 
Yet  t'le  say  nothing  but  what  is  true ; 
I  once  heard  of  a  cunning  whore, 
But  ner'e  the  like  of  this  before. 

To  the  Tune  of,  The  Mother  beguiled  the  Daughter.      [See  p.  161.] 

A  LI  you  that  are  disposed  now  to  heare  a  merry  jest. 
By  me  shall  be  disclosed  how  a  bonny  Lasse  contest, 
That  she  had  loved  one  or  two,  nay,  two  or  three  and  twenty, 
1  cannot  tell  what  they  did  doe,  but  she  had  Lovers  plenty. 
Sing  Boyes,  drink  Boyes,  why  should  we  not  he  merry  ? 
Vie  tell  you  of  a  bonny  Lasse,  and  her  Love  beyond  the  Ferry. 

This  bonny  Lass  had  [been]  caught  [in  trap],  it  seemes,  by  some  young  shaver; 
She  being  match ['d]  with  such  mishap,  the  Ladds  began  to  leave  her; 
Though  she  mist  of  their  company,  some  one  made  sure  his  bargain  : 
But  she  was  lov'd  of  so  many,  that  it  is  [not]  worth  regarding. 

Yet  she  will  sing,  and  alwayes  say,  "  Drink  round,  and  let's  be  merry ; 

I  have  a  love  in  Lankeshire,  and  a  little  beyond  the  ferry"  24 

She  now  being  called  to  account,  for  to  discribe  aright 
What  yo[u]ng  man  was  the  Father  on't,  and  her  owne  heart's-delight ; 
But  she  could  not  resolve  the  same,  because  there  was  so  many, 
She  knew  not's  Trade,  nor  yet  his  name,  for  she  was  free  for  any. 
Sing  Boyes;  [drink  Boyes ;  why  should  we  not  be  merry],  etc. 

Quoth  she,  "And  if  it  haue  a  Booke,  then  'twas  the  man  i'  th'  Gowne, 
Or  other  wayes,  an't  haue  a  hooke,  'twas  the  Sheephard  on  the  down; 
Or  if  it  haue  a  whip  in's  hand,  then  sure  it  was  a  Carter  ; 

Or  if  it  cannot  goe  nor  stand,  I  thinke  'twas  drunken  Artor.  [Arthur. 

Sing  Boyes,  [drink  Boyes  !  why  should  we  not  be  merry,~\  etc. 

"  And  if  it  haue  a  new  fashion,  'twas  one  came  out  of  France; 
And  if  it  be  a  Musician,  'twas  one  [who]  taught  me  to  dance ; 
And  if  in's  hand  a  needle  be,  then  sure  it  was  a  Taylor  ; 
Or  if  it  chance  to  crosse  the  Sea,  I  thinke  it  was  a  Saylor. 

Sing  Boyes,  drinke  Boyes,  why  should  we  not  be  merry? 

I  have  a  love  in  Lankeshire,  and  a  litle  beyond  the  ferry.  60 

STrjc  £ccorrti  Part.    To  the  Sajie  Toje. 

ANd  if  it  haue  a  Hammer,  then  sure  a  Smith  was  he ; 
And  if  it  be  full  of  man[n]er,  'twas  one  of  good  degree  ; 
Or  if  it  haue  a  shuttle,  a  Weaver  sure  was  he  then  ; 
And  if  that  it  be  wise  and  su[b]tle,  'twas  one  of  the  Bayliffe's  yong-men. 

Sing  Boyes,  [drink  Boyes,  why  should],  etc.  [Cf.  p.  11. 

"  And  if  it  haue  a  long  locke,  a  Courtier  sure  was  he  ; 

And  if  it  be  a  prety-cocke,  then  that  w[ould]  William  be  ;  ['  was^-he.' 

And  if  it  haue  a  shooe  in  's  hand,  it  was  the  Doone  Shoomaker ; 

Or  if  it  haue  a  durty  hand,  'twas  sure  a  dunghill-raker.     Sing  boyes,  etc.  84 

Note. — This  is  what  came  of  the  Free-love  line  of  business.  Young  ladies  who 
inadvertently  adopted  "The  New  Way  of  Marriage"  (which  was  a  tolerably  old 
way,  if  we  are  to  trust  ancient  records,  "afore  the  Fluid"),  met  a  'mishap'  (like 
Lady  Grisel's  maid  Kirsty  Henderson  in  John  Skelton's  '  Campaigner  at  Home'), 
she  "  could  hae  gotten_plenty  of  feythers  !  "     One  suffices,  for  moderate  minds. 

The  Kind-hearted  Creature.  161 

And  if  it  haue  a  kettle,  then  sure  he  was  a  Tinker ; 

And  if  he  be  fall  of  mettle,  'twas  sure  a  good  Ale-drinker  ; 

And  if  that  he  be  gresie,  then  sure  it  was  a  Butcher ; 

And  if  that  it  be  lowsie,  then  sure  it  was  a  Botcher.     Sing  Boyes,  etc. 

And  if  in's  hand  a  flower  be,  a  Gardner  was  the  man,  sure  ; 

And  if  it  loue  to  take  a  Fee,  I  think  twas  the  'Pariture  :  [=  Apparitor. 

And  if  it  be  in  a  gowne  of  gray,  'twas  one  that  Hues  i'  th'  Country ; 

And  if  that  it  be  fresh  and  gay,  'twas  one  of  the  common  gentry.     Sing  Boyes,  etc. 

"  And  if  it  have  a  Pen  in's  hand,  then  sure  it  was  a  Scriu'ner ; 

And  if  i'  th'  Tauern  he  love  to  stand,  then  sure  it  was  a  Vintner : 

And  if  it  haue  a  drowsie  eye,  'twas  him  that  they  call  '  Sleeper  ' ; 

And  if  with  bromes  and  homes  he  cry,  'twas  sure  the  Chimney-sweeper.     Sing,  etc. 

"  And  if  in's  hand  he  haue  a  Funne,  then  sure  it  was  a  Baker ;  [q.  Fan. 

And  if  he  loue  to  drinke  i'  th'  Tunne,  'twas  then  the  good  Ale-maker; 

And  if  he  loue  to  ride  a  Horse,  1  think  it  was  an  Ostler  ; 

Or  else  it  was  the  man  o'  th'  Crosse,  that  was  a  valiant  Wrastler.    Sing  Boyes,  etc. 

"  And  if  it  haue  a  mealy  face,  'twas  him  that  grin[d]es  the  Come  ; 

And  if  a  long  note  be  in  place,  'tis  him  that  windes  the  Horne  ; 

And  many  more  I  here  might  name,  which  lov'd  me  once  most  dearely ; 

But  that  indeed  it  is  a  shame,  for  enough  is  shewen  hereby.     Sing  Boyes,  etc. 

"  Now  all  the  hope  I  have  is  this,  my  barne  must  haue  a  Father,  [Note. 

And  I  confesse  I  did  amisse,  would  I  had  repented  rather. 

Yet  ther's  a  youngman  loves  me  wel,  but  I  could  nere  abide  him  ; 

I  know  of  me  hel'e  have  no  feare,  though  many  will  deride  him."  [cf.  p.  229. 

Sing  Boyes,  [drinke  Boyes  !  why  should  we  not  be  merry  ? 

I've  told  you  of  a  bonny  Basse,  and  her  Love  beyond  the  Ferry."]  156 

R[ichard  C[rimsall]. 

London,  Printed  for  F.  Coules. 

[Black-letter.  Five  woodcuts  :  1st,  a  hooped  Lady  with  ruff ;  2nd  on  p.  165,  L. ; 
the  others  are  all  in  vol.  i.,  3rd,  on  p.  190,  centre;  4th,  on  p.  175,  left;  5th, 
drummer,  on  p.  475.     Date  (transfer)  in  Stationers'  Registers,  24  June,  1630.] 

*#*  Line  146  might  seem  to  identify  our  ballad,  as  the  one  that  gave  the  new 
name  of  My  Child  must  have  a  Father  (cf.  p.  32),  sung  here  to  the  tune  known  as 
The  Mother  beguiled  the  Daughter.  There  had  been  two  other  ballads  modelled  on 
the  original,  but  temporarily-lost  ballad,  "The  Mother  beguiled  the  Daughter," 
viz.  "  The  Father  beguiled  the  Son,"  regis.  20  June,  1629;  and  "  The  Son  beguiled 
the  Father,"  registered  3  July,  1630.  The  tune  itself  was  used  alternatively  with 
several  others,  probably  distinct  from  it :  1st,  Stingo,  or  Oil  of  Barley,  known  later 
(p.  233,  Charles  II. 's  favourite  song  by  Tom  D'Crfey)  as  Cold  and  raw;  2nd,  I  have 
but  a  mark  a  year ;  3rd,  The  Country  Lass,  the  tune  now  used  for  '  Sally  in  our 
Alley,'  instead  of  Henry  Carey's  own  music.    (Cf.  pp.  72,  112.) 

But  we  believe  that  the  popularization  of  the  tune-name,  as  My  Child  must 
have  a  Father,  belongs  later  to  a  Pepysian  ballad  entitled  "  The  London  Lasse's 
Folly ;  or,  The  Maiden  beguiled  ;  "  licensed  by  Roger  L'Estrange  before  August, 
1685,  and  beginning,  "  Not  long  ago  it  chanced  so,  abroad  as  I  was  walking,"  and 
sung  to  the  tune  of  [A  Job  for]  the  Journeyman  Shooe-maker;  the  burden  varying, 
but  generally  stating  that  'My  Child  shall  have  a  Father.  (It  is  reprinted  in  these 
Eoxb.  Ballads,  iii.  351,  and  on  p.  353  is  the  Sequel  or  Answer,  entitled,  "  The 
New-Found]Father  discovered  in  the  Camp  "     Both  printed  for  C.  Dennisson. ) 

There  was  evidently  a  common  idea  and  treatment  for  these  ballads,  and 
Richard  Crimsall's  is  certainly  the  earliest  of  the  three;  its  tune-name  and 
publisher  indicate  this,  beside  internal  evidence  of  crudity,  and  the  Stationers' 
Company  Register.  A  Job  for  the  Journeyman  Shooe-maker  was  sung  to  the  tune 
of  A  Touch  of  the  Times  ;  same  as  My  Child  must  have  a  Father.     (Cf.  pp.  32,  99.) 

VOL.    VII. 



[Roxburghe  Collection,  III.  176  ;  Pepys,  I.  404.] 

IRoc&e  t&e  Cranie,  3ojm: 


Children  after  the  rate  of  twenty-foure  in  a  yeere, 

That's  two  euery  moneth  as  plaine  doth  appeare, 

Let  no  man  at  this  strange  story  wonder, 

It  goes  to  the  tune  of,  Ouer  and  vnder.     [See  Note,  p.  164.] 

THere  was  a  Country  Gallant,  that  wasted  had  his  talent,  [Note,  below. 

Not  dreading  what  would  fall  on't,  would  needs  a  wooing  ride  : 
Vnto  a  Lasse  of  the  City,  that  courteous  was  and  pritty, 
This  Damsell  neat  and  witty,  he  would  goe  make  his  Bride  : 
This  Lasse  she  had  of  wealth  good  store,  her  stocke  was  three-score  pound  and  more, 
Though  some  supposed  her  to  be  poore,  the  same  hath  late  beene  tride. 
liocke  the  Cradle,  rocke  the  Cradle,  rocke  the  Cradle,  John ; 
There's  many  a  man  rockes  the  Cradle,  when  the  Child's  none  of  his  owne. 

Unto  this  Lasse  incontinent,  the  Young-man  went  with  good  intent, 

His  love  was  fixed  and  firmely  bent,  to  take  her  to  his  wife  : 

Quoth  he,  "  My  sweet,  while  life  doth  last,  my  heart  is  in  thy  bosome  plac'd, 

Let  not  my  suit  be  now  disgraced,  I  love  thee  as  my  life." 

Said  shee,  "  Your  suit  I  must  deny,  for  I  haue  vowed  a  Maid  to  dye, 

If  I  lose  my  virginity,  it  sure  will  breed  much  strife." 

liocke  the  Cradle,  etc.  32 

"  I  have  been  wooed  by  Harry,  but  I  indeed  will  tarry, 
I  never  mean  to  marry,  while  I  on  earth  remaine  : 

Sweet  William  and  young  Thomas  too,  and  Richard  hath  made  much  adoe, 
And  Ned  with  teares  did  often  woe,  but  Humphrey  did  complaine : 
All  these  brave  gallants  I  forsake,  I  prethee  John  no  more  words  make, 
But  to  some  other  course  betake,  I  doe  thy  suit  disdaine. 
Goe  rocke  the  Cradle,"  etc. 

Note. — Wasting  one's  talent  (in  remembrance  of  the  Parable,  S.  Matt.  xv.  24) 

was  a  favourite  allusion  in  ballads.  "The  Old  Miser  Slighted"  (Boxburghe 
Collection,  II.  387),  not  yet  reprinted,  to  the  tune  of,  "I  of  ten  for  my  Jinny 
strove,"  and  beginning  "My  Mother  duns  me  everyday,"  holds  the  burden  of 
"  A  brisk  young  Gallant  has  a  Talent  which  is  better  worth  than  gold."  (Compare 
p.  147  ante,  the  burden  of  "  The  Wonderful  Praise  of  a  Good  Husband.") 

Rocke  the  Cradle,  John.  163 

The  man  [was]  no  whit  dismaid,  at  that  which  she  had  said, 

But  with  his  Sweet-heart  stayed,  and  did  request  her  still : 

He  did  intreat  her  favour,  'twas  all  that  he  did  crave  her, 

That  hee  might  onely  have  her,  his  fancy  to  fulfill : 

"My  heart  doth  fry  in  Cupid'1 's  fire,  thy  beauty  I  doe  much  admire ; 

Then  yeeld,  my  love,  to  my  desire,  or  else  a  man  you  kill." 

Rocke  the  Cradle,  etc.  64 

"When  she  her  selfe  did  vnderstand,  she  had  a  foole  caught  by  the  hand, 

Her  ship  she  knew  was  soundly  man'd,  her  belly  wondrous  round  : 

Thought  she,  "  This  is  a  friend  of  mine,  it's  best  make  hay  while  sun  doth  shine, 

Yet  to  some  thing  I  will  him  joyne,  before  my  fault  be  found." 

Said  she,  "  If  I  be  made  thy  wife,  thou  must  me  humour  all  thy  life, 

And  carefull  be  for  feare  of  strife,  like  to  a  'Prentise  bound." 

Rocke  the  Cradle,  [_rocke  the  Cradle,  rocke  the  Cradle,  John.] 

8H)C  SccantJ  Pact.    To  the  Same  Tune. 

"  TN  the  morning,  if  I  desire,  thou  must  rise  up  and  make  a  fire, 

1     And  other  things  I  shall  require,  which  thou  must  undertake ; 
My  breakfast  thou  must  dresse  also,  that  I  from  bed  to  it  may  goe, 
Ail  these  hard  taskes  and  many  more  thou  must  not  then  forsake,  ['  more.' 

To  brush  my  Gowne  and  set  my  band,  make  clean  my  shooes  at  my  command, 
Thy  businesse  thou  must  vnderstand  if  I  the  word  but  speake. 

Rocke  the  Cradle,  etc.  96 

"  And  when  we  chance  to  have  a  child,  thou  must  like  to  a  Father  mild, 
Unto  the  same  be  reeoncil'd,  and  dance  it  on  thy  knee  ; 
Or  if  the  infant  cry  for  pap,  thou  then  must  take  it  on  thy  lap, 
And  feed  it  well,  what  euer  hap,  if  John  will  many  mee  ; 
Thou  must  take  paines  as  thou  art  able,  to  make  the  bed,  and  serve  at  Table, 
And  lay  the  young  one  in  the  Cradle,  whilst  I  sing  merrily, 
Rocke  the  Cradle,"  etc. 

"  Sweet-heart,"  quoth  he,  "  to  please  thee,  I'le  doe  all  things  to  ease  thee, 

I  will  not  once  disease  thee,  nor  yet  my  loue  offend. 

My  hands  vnder  your  feet  I'le  lay,  the  wind  shall  not  my  loue  annoy, 

So  thou  wilt  be  mine  ownely  ioy,  I'le  loue  thee  to  the  end. 

I'le  make  the  bed,  the  house  I'le  sweep,  and  lull  the  Baby  fast  asleepe  ; 

What  you  command  my  selfe  will  keepe,  and  will  my  humour  bend." 

Rocke  the  Cradle,  etc.  128 

To  this  they  both  agreed,  and  married  were  with  speed, 
For  shee  had  wondrous  need,  as  you  shall  heare  hereafter  ; 
The  same  day  month  that  they  were  wed,  the  married  man  was  fairely  sped, 
His  wife  was  safely  brought  to  bed,  and  had  both  sonne  and  daughter, 
Which  by  the  Midwife  in  was  brought,  qd.  she, ' '  you  have  a  strange  thing  wrought, 
Two  children  in  a  moneth  begot !  "  and  so  tooke  up  a  laughter. 
Rocke  the  Cradle,  etc. 

He  kist  the  Girle  and  lou'd  the  Boy,  said  he,  "  Tou  are  your  father's  joy, 

There's  many  are  in  great  annoy,  because  they  have  no  child : 

I  knew  a  Lord  and  Lady  faire,  that  did  desire  to  haue  an  heire, 

Now  I  myself  haue  got  a  paire,  and  they  are  both  beguil'd. 

My  wife  is  fruitful,  now  I  see,  and  will  some  great  increase  bring  mee  !  " 

"  They  are  your  owne  assuredly,"  then  said  the  Midwife  mild. 

'  Rocke  the  Cradle,  etc.  160 

164  Roche  the  Cradle,  John. 

"  See  here  the  Bov  is  like  the  Dad,  which  well  may  make  your  heart  fal  glad, 

Cheere  up  your  selfe  and  be  not  sad,  for  that  which  here  is  done  : 

His  ruby  lips  doe  plaine  disclose,  his  cherry  cheekes  and  dad's  owne  nose." 

"  For  twenty  pound  I  will  not  lose,"  quoth  he,  "  my  little  sonne." 

So  well  content  this  foole  was  found,  he  leapt  for  ioy  above  the  ground. 

"  Old  sorrow  shall," 'quoth  he,  "  be  drown'd,  since  new  are  fresh  begun  : 

Roche  the  Cradle,  Log  the  Cradle,  thus  lie  have  it  knowne, 

I  lone  to  rocke  the  Cradle,  the  children  be  mine  owne." 

All  you  which  now  haue  heard  this  ditty,  take  heed  with  wiues  how  you  doe  fit  ye, 

For  if  you  come  to  London  City,  you  quickly  may  be  sped  ; 

As  here  you  see  this  Country  Lad  within  a  moneth  was  made  a  Dad, 

Though  he  but  little  share  in't  had,  his  wife  was  brought  to  bed  ; 

And  now  this  simple  [fond]  woodcocke  the  Cradle  is  constrain'd  to  rocke, 

His  neighbours  doe  deride  and  mockc,  cause  he  is  so  bestead. 

They  shout  and  cry  and  to  him  say,  "  Still  the  children,  John  !  " 

'  Tis  enough  to  make  the  man  to  thinke  they  be  none  of  his  owne.  192 

L[aurence  P[rice]. 


Printed  at  London  for  E.  B.     [Probably  Edward  Blackmore ;  to  whom  it  is 
entered  in  Stationers'  Registers,  4°  Novenibris,  1631,  D.  229  =  l'ranscripl,iv.  263.] 

[Black-letter.  Single  woodcut  (the  unmutilated  original  of  one  given  in  Bootb. 
Ballads,  vol.  iii.  p.  376,  a  Cuckold  holding  up  a  Horn-book  ;  his  wife  behind 
him,  threatening  him  with  a  stick).     "Woman  on  p.  162  belongs  to  p.  99.] 

Note  on  ballad-burden,  and  Tune. 

Over  and  Under  (a  ballad  registered  on  13  June,  1631)  is  one  of  the  names  of 

the  tune,  with  variations,  known  as  The  Jovial  1'inker,  and  Joan's  Ale  is  New 

(see  Popular  3Iusic,  pp.  187  to  190).    The  title  came  from  a  Black-letter  broadside 

(Pepys  Coll.,  I.  264),  "Anew  little  Northern  Song,"  perhaps  by  Laurence  Price, 

"Vnder  and  ouer,  ouer  and  Vnder, 

Or  a  pretty  new  Jeast,  and  yet  no  wonder  ; 
Or  a  Mayden  mistaken,  as  many  now  be: 
View  well  this  glasse,  and  you  may  plainly  see." 

"  To  a  pretty  new  Northern  tune,"  printed  for  Henry  Gosson.     It  begins — 

11  As  I  abroad  was  walking  I  heard  two  Lovers  talking, 
One  to  another  speaking,  of  Lover's  constancy. 
As  in  a  meadow  turning,  upon  a  summer's  morning, 
I  heard  these  Lovers  mourning,  'cause  of  Love's  cruelty. 
For  under  and  over,  over  and  under,  under  and  over  again  ; 
Quoth  she,  '  Sweet-heart,  L  love  thee,  as  Maidens  should  love  Men?  " 
"We  hereafter  reprint  another  ballad  to  the  same  tune  (Pepys  Coll.,  I.  396), 
and  similarly  entitled.  "  Bocke  the  babie,  Joane ;    or  John,  his  petition  to  his 
loving  wife  Joane,  '  To  Suckle  the  Babe  that  was  none  of  her  owne.'  "     To  the 
tnne  of  Vnder  and  Over,  beginning  "A  Young  Man  in  our  parish,  his  Wife  was 
somewhat  currish."     The  date  being  2  January,  163^  (Stat.  Beg.,  D.  234),  it 
soon  followed  our  ballad,  which  it  imitated  :  perhaps  both  were  Martin  Parker's. 
%*  Except  mention  of  Tottenham,  and  a  pretty  Lass,  our  Bonny  Bryer  ballad 
has  no  connection  with  the  Choyce  Drollery  song,  p.  45,  1 656,  "  As  I  went  to  Totnom 
on  a  market  day  "  (=Pills  to  P.  Mel.,  iv.  179,  "As  I  went  to  Tottingham  "). 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  III.  174  ;  Apparently  Unique.] 

Ci)e  Bonn?  Brper; 


A  Lancashire  Lasse,  her  sore  lamentation, 

For  the  death  of  her  Loue,  and  her  owne  reputation. 

To  the  Tune  of  The  Bonny  Broome.     [See  Note,  p.  167.] 

llttlK  **  r!*^^ 

#1   -it     \\\VftJ  V5 1 

A  r  1  'vfc^         UKUr?M.  ^  ^y 

J^  M 1  ^  ft^^n\\^%^^  ^ 


Ax  jR?  /  ^Mi 




Si   i  / 

%m  I^J/jjIMMa 


y^  Q  o 




ONe  morning  early,  by  the  breake  of  day,  walking  to  Totnam- Court 
Upon  the  left  hand  of  the  high  way,  I  heard  a  sad  report ; 
I  made  a  stay,  and  look'd  about  me  then,  wondring  from  whence  it  was, 
At  last  I  spyed  within  my  ken  a  blyth  and  buxome  Lasse 

Sing  "  0  the  Bryer,  the  bony  bony  Bryer,  theBryer  that  is  so  sioeet; 
Would  I  had  stayd  in  Lancashire  to  milke  my  Mother's  Neate." 

I  drew  more  neare  and  layd  me  all  along  upon  the  grasse  so  greene, 
"Where  I  might  heare  her  dulcid  tongue,  yet  I  was  from  her  unseene ; 
"Woe's  me"  (quoth  shee)  "that  ever  I  was  borne,  to  come  to  London 

For  now,  alas !  I  am  a  scorne,  and  none  my  woes  will  pitty. 

But  0  the  Bryer,  etc.  24 

166  '  The  Bonny  Bryer,  that  is  so  siceet.' 

"  Mine  Game  and  Aunt  have  often  said  at  home  that  London  is  a  place 

Where  Lasses  may  to  preferment  come  within  a  little  space. 

This  I  finde  true,  though  they  meant  otherwise,  which  makes  me 

thus  lament,  ttext'  ' Mine  ffa>»e,'  for  yammer. 

My  b[od]y  doth  to  preferment  rise,  as  if  some  Barne  were  in  't. 

With  0  the  Bryer,  the  bony  bony  Bryer,  the  Bryer  that  is  so  sweet; 
Would  1  had  stayd  in  Lancashire,  to  milke  my  Mother's  Neate. 

"  These  words  did  my  desire  inflame,  at  home  I  could  not  hide, 
But  up  to  London  in  hast[e]  I  came  ;  I  may  bewaile  the  Tide. 
A[h !]  now  I  wish'd  that  I  at  home  had  stayd,  and  not  preferment 

sought ; 
I'm  neither  Widdow,  Wife,  nor  Mayde,  then  what  may  I  be  thought  ? 

With  0  the  Bryer,  the  bony  bony  Bryer,  the  Bryer  that  is  so  sweet; 

Would  I  had  stayd  in  Lancashire,  to  milke  my  Mother's  Neate. 

" 1  had  in  London  tarryed  but  a  yeare,  yet  in  that  tinie  while, 
I  fell  in  love  with  a  bonny  Bryer,  the  sweetest  in  a  mile : 
He  mickle  good- will  did  beare  unto  me,  I  thinke  he  did  not  faine, 
For  by  a  crauen  lately  he  was  in  my  quarrell  slaine. 

Siny  0  the  Bryer,  etc.  60 

"  Before  that  deare  and  most  unhappy  day,  hee  with  my  free  consent 
Had  tane,  alas!  my  mayden-head  away,  and  to  wed  me  in  hast[e] 

hee  meant ; 
But  my  great  belly  seemeth  me  to  twit,  with  my  too  wanton  carriage, 
To  lose  that  jem,  I  wanted  wit,  before  my  day  of  marriage. 

But  0  the  Bryer,  the  bony  bony  Bryer,  the  Bryer  that  is  so  sweet; 

Would  I  had  stayd  in  Lancashire,  to  milke  my  Mother's  Neate. 

9Ehe  SrcontJ  -part.    To  the  Same  Tuxe. 

"  "R^  JUst  foUre  dayes  before  tne  'ported  time  that  should  have 
J_)     made  me  a  wife, 

Sweet  Willy-Bryer  was  slaine  in  his  prime,  being  stab'd  to  the  heart 

with  a  knife ; 

But  had  it  beene  with  Staffe  or  Sword,  all  in  the  open  field, 

The  Kascall  would  have  eate  his  word,  that  thus  my  deare  hath  kil'd. 

With  0  the  Bryer,  the  bony  bony  Bryer,  the  Bryer  that  is  so  swed; 

Would  1  had  stayd  in  Lancashire,  to  milke  my  Mother's  Neate. 

""Woe  worth  the  wretch  wherever  he  be  fled,  would  I  reven»'d 

could  be ! 
Lost  is  my  Love  and  my  Maiden-head,  what  shall  become  of  me? 
Might  I  but  see  him  hanging  by  the  cra[i]g,  that  causeth  all  this  woe, 
'Twould  something  mitigate  the  plague,  which  I  must  undergoe. 
But  0  the  Bryer,  etc.  gg 

'  The  Bonny  Bryer,  that  is  so  siceet.'  167 

' '  What  shall  I  doe  ?  ray  shame  I  cannot  hide,  my  [fo]lly  will  be  knowne, 
And  all  ray  friends  and  kin  will  me  chide  for  giving  away  mine  owne. 
To  London  Citty  will  I  goe  no  more,  where  I  have  dwelt  a  yeere, 
Yet  if  I  knew  how  to  salve  my  sore,  I'd  goe  home  to  Lancashire. 

But  0  the  Bri/er,  [the  bonny  bonny  Bryer,~\  etc." 
I,  hearing  her  last  speeches  that  she  spoke,  rose,  and  to  her  I  stept, 
More  pitty  did  my  heart  provoke,  to  see  how  sore  she  wept : 
"  Faire  lasse,"  quoth  I,  "  goe  home  unto  your  friends,  that  is  your 

safest  way  ; 
Great  misery  all  such  attends,  that  in  your  case  heere  stay. 

With  0  the  Bryer,  the  bony  bony  Bryer,  the  Bryer  that  is  so  sweet; 

Goe,  get  thee  home  into  Lancashire,  and  milke  thy  Mother's  Neat." 

She  blushing  said,  "  Sir,  I  thanke  you  heartily,  for  this  your  counsell 

But  in  this  field  I  had  rather  die  with  cold  and  hunger  pinde, 
Than  to  my  Kin  be  made  a  jest  for  going  thus  astray." 
"  Sweet  heart,"  quoth  I,  "  set  your  heart  at  rest,  and  list  what  I 

shall  say.       With  0  the  Bryer,  etc.  132 

"  Goe  home  unto  your  friends,  faire  Lasse,  tell  them  that  your  good  man 
I'  tb'  Swedish  warres  late  killed  was,  none  there  disprove  you  can: 
This  is  the  way  which  commonly  is  done,  and  when  that  you  are  layd, 
You'l  soone  be  match'd  with  a  Yeoman's  son,  and  an  honest  wife  be 

made.  With  0  the  Bryer"  etc. 
She  promised  me  my  counsell  to  imbrace,  and  seemed  in  minde  content; 
She  wipt  the  tears  quite  from  her  face,  and  to  Totnam  Court  she  went. 
On  her  some  Cakes  and  Ale  I  did  bestow,  then  she  no  longer  tarried, 
But  home  to  Lancashire  she  did  goe,  where  since  I  heare  she's  married. 
With  0  the  Bryer,  the  bony  bony  Bryer,  the  Bryer  that  is  so  sweet; 
Now  is  the  Lasse  in  Lancashire,  and  milkes  her  Mother's  Mate. 

M[artin]  P[arker]. 


Printed  at  London  for  F[rancis~\  G[rove~]  on  Snow-hill. 

[In  Black-letter.     Four  woodcuts  :  the  1st  and  2nd  are  on  p.  165 ;  the  3rd  is  a 
framed  full-length  of  a  Jesuit,  his  right  hand  holding  a  rosary,  in  his  left  a 
four-peaked  cap  ;  4th,  a  woman,  temp.  Jacobi  I.,  on  p.  175.   Date,  circa  1634.] 
V*  The  tune  named,   The  bonny  bonny  Broome,  has  been  mentioned  {Roxb. 
Ballads,  ii.  503),  in  connection  with  "Slippery  Will;  or,  the  Old  Batchelor's 
Complaint,"  with  reference  to  Popular  Music,  pp.  460,  461.     Mr.  Wm.  ChappelL 
had  (in  Roxb.  Bds.,\.  587)  annotated  the  English  version  of  The  Broom  of  Cow  den 
Knowes,  entitled,  "The  Lovely  Northern  Lasse  "  (transferred  to  J.  Wright,  etc., 
16  July,  1634),  sung  to  the  tune  of  The  bonny  Broome,  of  date  1621  or  earlier, 
with  a  burden  which  Martin  Parker  plainly  imitated  in  our  "  Bonny  Bryer  "  :  — 
Through  Liddersdale,  as  lately  I  went,  I  musing  on  did  passe, 
I  heard  a  Maid  was  discontent,  she  sigh'd  and  said,  "  Alas  ! 
All  Maids  that  ever  deceived  ivas,  beare  a  part  of  these  my  woes, 
For  once  I  was  a  bonny  Lasse,  when  I  millet  my  Daddy e's  Eives. 

With  0  !  the  broome,  the  bonny  broome,  the  broome  of  the  Cowden  Knowes, 
Faine  would  I  be  in  the  North  Gountrey,  to  milk  my  daddye's  Ewes." 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  367;  Euing,  259;  Jersey,  II.  249.] 

JJ?orti)ern  Basse's  JUmentation ; 

%T)t  QHngappp  ^atti'a  sptgfottune* 

Since  she  did  from  her  friends  depart, 
No  earthly  thing  can  cheer  her  heart ; 
But  still  she  doth  her  case  lament. 
Being  always  fill'd  with  discontent. 

Resolving  to  do  nought  but  mourn, 

Till  to  the  North  she  doth  return. 

To  the  Tune,  Iwouldlwere  in  my  own  Country.   [See  p.  170.]   With  Allowance. 

ANorth-Countrey  Lass  up  to  London  did  pass, 
Although  with  her  nature  it  did  not  agree, 
"Which  made  her  repent  and  so  often  lament, 
Still  wishing  again  in  the  North  for  to  be. 

0  the  Oak,  the  Ash,  and  the  bonny  Ivy  Tree, 
Both  flourish  at  home  in  my  own  Country. 

Fain  would  I  be  in  the  North  Country, 

Where  the  ladds  and  the  lasses  are  making  of  hay, 
There  should  I  see  what  is  pleasant  to  me 
A  mischief  light  on  them  intic'd  me  away. 

0  the  Oak,  the  Ash,  and  the  bonny  Ivy  Tree, 
Doth  flourish  most  bravely  in  our  Country. 


The  Northern  Lasse's  Lamentation.  169 

Since  that  I  came  forth  of  the  pleasant  North, 
Ther's  nothing  delightful  I  see  doth  abound, 
They  never  can  be  half  so  merry  as  we, 

When  we  are  a  dancing  of  Bellinger's  round.  {Note,  p.  170. 

0  the  Oak,  the  Ash,  and  the  bonny  Ivy  Tree, 
Both  flourish  at  home  in  our  oivn  Country.  18 

I  like  not  the  Court,  nor  the  City  resort, 

Since  there  is  no  fancy  for  such  maids  as  me, 
Their  pomp  and  their  pride  I  can  never  abide, 
Because  with  my  humour  it  doth  not  agree. 
0  the  Oak,  the  Ash,  the  bonny  Ivy  Tree, 
Doth  flourish  at  home  in  my  own  Country.  24 

How  oft  have  I  been  on  the  Westmorland  green, 

Where  the  young  men  and  maidens  resort  for  to  play, 
Where  we  with  delight  from  morning  till  night 
Could  feast  it  and  frollick  on  each  Holliday. 

0  the  Oak,  the  Ash,  and  the  bonny  Ivy  Tree, 

They  flourish  most  bravely  in  our  Country.  30 

A  milking  to  go,  all  the  Maids  on  a  row, 
It  was  a  fine  sight  and  pleasant  to  see ; 
But  here  in  the  City  they  are  void  of  pitty, 
There  is  no  enjoyment  of  liberty. 

0  the  Oak,  the  Ash,  and  the  bonny  Ivy  Tree, 

They  flourish  most  bravely  in  our  Country.  36 

When  I  had  the  heart  from  my  friends  to  depart, 

I  thought  I  should  be  a  Lady  at  last ; 
But  now  I  do  find  that  it  troubles  my  mind, 
Because  that  my  joyes  and  my  pleasure  is  past. 
0  the  Oak,  the  Ash,  and  the  bonny  Ivy  Tree, 
They  flourish  at  home  [in  my  ow?i  Country].  42 

The  yows  and  the  lambs,  with  the  kidds  and  their  damms, 

To  see  in  the  Country  how  finely  they  play ; 
The  bells  they  do  ring,  and  the  birds  they  do  sing, 
And  the  fields  and  the  gardens  so  pleasant  and  gay. 
0  the  Oak,  and  the  Ash,  and  the  bonny  Ivy  Tree, 
They  flourish  most  bravely  in  our  Country.  48 

At  Wakes  and  at  Fairs,  being  void  of  all  cares, 

We  there  with  our  Lovers  did  use  for  to  dance  ; 
Then  hard  hap  had  I  my  ill  fortune  to  try, 
And  so  up  to  London  my  steps  to  advance. 

0  the  Oak,  the  Ash,  and,  the  bonny  Ivy  Tree, 

They  [flourish  at  home  in  my  own  Country].  54 

I  ,  0  /         \ .  /  /  •niiriif,!. 

\ ,  i  niill  I  perceive  l  n  lui  il I  ml) \\\\  liavei 

n  i  i,.  tin  < Id  j  \\\\  nmiii  .  nult!  hul  h .'mi.  . 

Hill     l»||     I,  ,v  ,.    .,    Li. I    III  .1     I  .     V'l  III    <  '...Mill,    j     In.  ,1. 

Or  elm  I'll  no 1 1 )  In  th'  "|""1  thai  I  rca 

( '       i '      .",,    »■,'»,  nnA  th<>  (loom/  hui  i 

to  /»//  mn  Cuunti  00 

\  in  n. i.  ii  i  mi.  mill  .1  in. m.i  IMi  "  m  \\n, 

1 1  1 1 1  1 1    III)     M\V  l)    *  '"Ullt  I  «   \     UVIIII     I    ill.    rum  ; 

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in  i,  -.-.  ii. ...  ,  \ .  ii  i  |\ope  to  '.I'"  n 

|  ■ 

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•  1 1      ii  ,   I,  ,m,  ,i  i    iin  in  ,  ill  .,1  mi  ,,in  |) 

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tin, mi  i,  I,  ,1  1      V..  ■   i.    I  .In  ,  I  V    win,  Ii     \>.     i.  |.,uil,,l    in    \  i  M     T  null  .1-. 

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\  |i     i, ■•■.  III.     I  I,  i,l   In ,  ii 

I  ,v,, I    limn    |,      |K      m.l    Hi! 

ll.UII       |l  ;■  I 


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I,  I 

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Chr    II  ?m  llnlll    ILMitl  J 

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A   //,....,.   /;.///.., ,  ../,,„.  mul,,  , ,  in  i  i  hihi  . 
Willi  n ;  n ill  mnpli  ikiIh  mill  i 

A    Urn  III  i  ,    Huh    |  ,    \tili  I      .imI  II..    Ill  . 

N  i  I   until  ii |||   Mm.  i.  In  i      |)l       lio'll     Iff  I  It  I 

lini  in  H  ii i    lii  i   null  i'1,  m  i1i 

A  I'tou  man  "ill ,  Ii  ■    In  i  I ,  ■  ■   'i 


'I'ii  mm    1 1   ii   ..i.    n,,,.  ui(t»  "  i"'   iii  t'limi'i i r,in,i,  t>U     I     'i'    •/'  I 

Aim  h    I    ■       •■'    Hi     Worth  I   Ill  ft   ""'I    I    '•'"     III ''    '"•    '    '        llOIIII    . 

M  illl  y    II    I  .ill    llHIl    i  ..III  Ii  .1    ih.  |,     mi.  I    :   ■•  ..,  ..    I  In  I    |,|||    ;    I n |||| 

Ihil  In  M  (ll  m$t   '"  '"  ■'  I"  "■■  .   "'■     I  Kit  "'"'  ,/"",/'•  III  >"  ■'  "  •"•   "" 

f  jovial  I'hui  ni, hi  urn  i  /..  lit)  ihi  i .../  a,., i  ■-...■    /,./.,//., 
'i  in  iii  i  t i>.i  i  hiik    'ltd  I In    ii  mi.  ■  " •     '    inn  I  in  'ii  i ■  ''■'  li| 

I '.III     I       .,  I.)  ,    |     .Vll'll    II  I.  III.  Of   III  III,    Will  I    I      "      "  '  '       011        I''   I'     I"    "I      '!"    !•    '    I 

(lnt  /,,  l„,l  1(1  m,  ,  ■  Ii 
I  -.1    In    "I     I   ||0|  ' n. i    I,   I...    .1     I"    II  i     '    .■    I  ...    I  III    in  |    ■  |l    .'' 

wii"  iii '  i  mid  i ul  ■  ■ ,    ■  ■•! .  1 1" '  i  foi    In  '   no  mi  d  I'm  km 

Hill    In   In, I   tO    in.  ,    '   I'  'I 

'i  In  ni    i.'ii,  lot   ■ ..    "  in.. .  villi    i  ■  ii.  i   iii  .  mid  '  "i'  "  , 

Wll"  i  '   I    l|i'l.    'Ii'l    '  I  Hl.'.'il.    I       .1.1    Ir         in,,,.        in.  I    II,. .  I    In     Inn I'l   ll:';'     -ill 

Ihil  til  I'"1  (tl  "'■  .  (ll  ''"'  <"  ii"  .  ''"    '  ■"'  '''"'  ■  "'"     (a  '•■  ' ' 

i  in, i, i  i'i„ a- in, ,„  nun/  in  in,  iii,   I, ml  "'.,'  bum i"  ""  '■"'  with  tin 

ii.     i"  |..  ""  •  i.i'i  ""  i"    -."i'l  i  mill  i  Ii "!  i"  '"/  i  ""ii. ni.. 

Ilu!    mii  ,■  I'rliil   i lid  "r"  nd,    "  i"  i"    I'lti  li'd  I '■  i  ""i  ' ""  ii  "i 

/.,,      In    ImI    /,,    III,  .     I,,    It  ,1    (O    III,  .     Ill,       I  ni    Ih,, I    „■■,,,/       I"    '■■'/    I 

i  bonny  I'lininium  tnuft  '"  '•• .  "■■  fad  "■■''   ''■■*<    (hi  thttl    with  IM 

A  Ih  on  in  .i . '  •  "ii'  i"iii| In,  •  ii"  pi  ""i  i  did  Id     "il  "'  1 1  in  . 

Ami  'ImI  iii  /   li.i.l   I"  ■■'|in  ■  ••'    I"     iii,  'in 'I  "ii   llii  iii  |i"      ''I  "I   .  lllO  ."    'I 

Ihil    In    ln.,1    In    mi  ,    I   ll  I 

iii.  1 1. 1 1.  .I  mi  ni.. .ni  tin  i  in ' ,  mid  (.old  mi  ll     '   III   i'  'i'"  i. 

I    .   Ii  i  ,  ;  .  mil    vvil'il   Willi   ni'  .    I    I  llOII  "   III    III       •    lltll   00     ■     I 

/;,</   /.,  /„  ,1  h,   „,,  ,  I  ll 

Did  thi  '  i""  I",    did  i'"1  I"'    ni.  iii"'   I"""  mid  '""   villi  |."-'i'i''i  loi 

Hi"'    In     I   ■"   | |"  "I    in    .'1  I'  ,    I"    '  "ii '' I   ii"'    I    itllll   i '   I"     •  I"'  ] 

/..,    /.,  /,../  /,,  ,,,, 

A      /III  I  In  I      I.  II I  Hi  mi    ||| I  i.    ni'   .  I,',i,i     I     'I  I'l    I    .1   •      |||      -I'll    ill    'I   mi, 

III        "'I    I"       ul,    I  ,:',',!,      I Iii      ■  .  ,    I',.    I"         '.'il' I   I""  I     i", 

Ihil     In    l„, I    l„    „,,,     I    I'  /    ' 

172      The  Northern  Lad ;  or,  The  Fair  Maid's  Choice. 

But  I  repell'd  his  rude  address,  and  told  him  'twas  my  greatest  cares, 
If  wa'd  a  lowsie  A-Snip,  alas  !  when  he's  incens'd  should  keep  my  ears. 
But  to  bed  to  me,  to  bed  to  me,  the  man  that  comes  to  bed  to  me, 
A.n  honest  Plowman  must  he  be,  the  Lad  that  is  embrae'd  by  me. 

A  Baker  next,  who  called  me  cozen,  did  beg  for  one  salute  of  me, 
Presenting  straight  French  Koals  a  dozen,  hut's  neck  was  warp'd  with  pdlory  : 
Oh  !  to  bed  to  me,  etc. 

And  then  a  Miller,  Avho  for  cogging,  for  thieving  and  such  like  with  's  bowl, 
Upon  his  Horse  came  softly  jogging,  who  lighting  straight  demanded  Tole. 

But  to  bed  to  me,  etc.  96 

He  told  me  I  was  his  by  right,  whereat  I  smil'd  disdainfully  ; 
4  Your  [mill-]stones,'  said  1,  '  are  ruin'd  quite,  therefore  expect  no  more  of  me.' 
But  to  bed  to  me,  etc. 

A  Plowman  is  the  jovial  Lad,  who  still  despises  grief  and  care, 
With  him  content  and  pleasure's  had,  with  him  a  Eustick  life  I'le  share  : 
\_Oh  !  to  bed  to  me,  to  bed  to  me,~\  '  Tis  he  shall  come  to  bed  to  me,  etc. 

I'se  grasp  him  in  my  arms  all  night,  and  when  the  shades  shall  disappear, 
In  pleasing  Groves  we'll  take  delight,  and  with  sweet  Songs  each  other  chear. 
Oh  !  to  bed  to  me,  etc. 

Come,  my  dear,  when  Nelly  calls,  0  let  us  in  this  shady  grove 
Row  venture  on  what  e're  befalls,  and  quench  the  passion  of  my  Love : 
Oh  !  to  bed  to  me,  to  bed  to  me,  when  thou  art  come  to  bed  to  me, 
Sow  happy  then  will  Nelly  be,  when  thou  art  come  to  bed  to  She.     jftnig* 

[In  Black-letter.  Colophon  lost  :  Huth's  and  Jersey's  '  Printed  for  P.  Broohsby.' 
Three  woodcuts.  1st,  the  feminine  representative  of  "Winter,  p.  239,  left; 
2nd,  man,  vi.  20o,  right ;  3rd,  man,  on  p.  31,  but  reversed.  Date,  circa  1672. 
Later  we  add  "  There  was  a  Lass  in  Cumberland  "— •'  Cumberland  Nelly.7] 

[This  cut  bclouys  to  "  Cupid's  Wanton  Wiles,77  on  p.  101,  ante.] 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  161  ;  Wood's,  E.  25,  art.  62;  Jersey,  I.  188; 

Rawlinson,  93]. 

Ci)e  iftcfele  5I5ortl)ern  3U0£  ; 

or,   %ty  Mrongeo  %>f)tpf)tttf&  Evolution* 

He  thought  himself  the  jolliest  of  the  crew, 
Whilst  that  his  Love  remained  firm  and  true  ; 
But  she,  false  Maid,  did  prove  to  him  disloyal, 
And  was  not  constant  to  abide  the  tryal ; 
"Which  made  him  to  resolve  thus  in  his  mind 
Never  to  trust  no  more  to  Women-kind. 

Tune  of  [its  own],  There  was  a  Lass  in  the  North-  Country,  etc. 

THere  was  a  Lass  in  the  North.  Country, 
And  she  had  Lovers  two  or  three  ; 
But  she  unkindly  dealt  by  one, 
Who  had  to  her  great  favour  shown  ; 
"Which  made  him  thus  for  to  complain, 
"  I  never  will  see  my  love  again  : 

For  since  that  she  hath  changed  her  mind, 
Fie  trust  no  more  to  icomen-kind. 

"  I  gave  her  ribbons  for  to  wear, 
And  now  and  then  a  pair  of  gloves  ; 
But  she  unkindly  dealt  by  me, 
And  gave  them  to  her  other  Loves : 
But  now  in  the  Country  will  I  hie, 
And  for  to  seek  a  new  victory. 

For  since  that  she  hath  changed  her  mind,  16 

I'le  trust  no  more  to  women-hind. 

u  Sometimes  she  vow'd  she  did  me  love, 
And  I  was  apt  for  to  believe ; 
But  all  her  flattering  words  did  prove, 
No  more  than  baits  for  to  deceive, 
As  I  do  find  it  to  my  pain  ; 
Therefore  I'le  never  believe  again  : 

For  since  that  she  hath  changed  her  mind, 

Fie  trust  no  more  to  women-hind. 

"  As  she  was  fair,  had  she  been  true, 
I  should  have  had  no  cause  to  rue  ; 
But  she  was  fickle  in  her  mind, 
Subject  to  waver  with  the  wind  : 
With  each  new  face  that  she  did  see, 
She  presently  in  love  would  be. 

And  since  that  she  hath  changed  her  mind, 

Fie  trust  no  more  to  icomen-kind.  32 

174  The  Fickle  Northern  Lass. 

'•*  I  raust  confess  that  in  my  eye 
She  was  a  pearl  I  valued  high  ; 
But  what  is  beauty,  without  grace, 
Or  one  where  Vertue  hath  no  place  ? 
Her  false  alluring  smiles  no  more 
Shall  draw  my  senses  out  of  door. 

For  since  that  she  hath  changed  her  mind, 

Fie  trust  no  more  to  women-kind. 

"  I  gave  her  heart,  I  gave  her  hand, 
And  all  I  had  at  her  command  ; 
She  could  not  ask  what  she  would  have, 
But  presently  the  same  I  gave  : 
Yet  all  my  favours  prov'd  in  vain, 
For  she  would  not  requite  my  pain.     Then  since,  etc.         48 

"  When  I  did  think  her  most  secure, 
Another  did  her  mind  allure, 
And  by  some  crafty  wiles  she  went, 
To  undermine  my  sweet  content : 
So  that  I  now  repent  the  day, 
That  e're  I  cast  my  love  away.     For  since,  etc. 

"  But  now  my  resolution's  such, 
To  suffer  for  my  loving  much  ; 
All  women's  company  I'le  shun, 
For  fear  I  further  be  undone  : 
And  go  where  none  hath  power  to  know 
The  subject  of  my  grief  and  woe.     For  since,  etc.  64 

"  And  in  some  dark  and  dismal  [grove],  o^, 'place.' 

There  will  I  build  myself  a  Cave, 
And  in  some  low  and  barren  ground, 
Where  none  but  Shepherds  can  be  found, 
Tie  find  a  place  for  to  bewail 
My  sorrows,  which  doth  me  assail.     For  since,  etc. 

"  Some  shady  Desart  I  will  chuse, 
Which  other  mortals  all  refuse, 
And  on  the  trees  her  name  I'le  carve, 
That  doth  from  me  so  ill  deserve  ; 
That  future  ages  all  may  know 
What  love  to  her  I  once  did  owe.     And  since,  etc.  80 

"  The  purling  streams  with  me  shall  mourn, 
And  leaves  relenting  all  shall  turn  ; 
The  wood-nymphs  who  my  plaints  do  hear 
Shall  now  and  then  afford  a  tear  : 
All  blaming  her  for  cruelty, 
That  brought  me  to  this  misery.     And  since,  etc. 

Editorial  Note  on  the  distribution  of  Woodcuts.        175 

"  And  when  my  time  is  drawing  nigh, 
I  will  prepare  my  self  to  dj-e  ; 
The  Robin  Red-Breasts  kind  will  be, 
Perhaps,  with  leaves  to  cover  me : 
Then  to  the  world  I'le  bid  adieu, 
And  unto  her  that  prov'd  untrue  : 

For  since  that  she  hath  changed  her  mind, 

Young -men  beware  of  Women-kind."  96 

Printed  for  F.  Coles,  T.  Vere,  J.  Wright,  and  J.  Clarice. 

[In  Black-letter.     Three  woodcuts.     1st,  the  couple  in  a  forest,  p.  228  ;  2nd, 
vi.  40,  right ;  3rd,  iii.  527,  right.     Date,  circa  1672-1681.] 

*x*  Our  woodcuts,  and  our  Notes  on  tunes  and  varying  tune-names,  have 
sometimes  to  wander  apart  from  their  proper  localities,  in  order  to  save  space. 
A  magnificent  prodigality  reigned  in  earlier  days,  consule  Blanco,  throughout  the 
commencing  volumes,  which  allowed  the  self-same  cuts  to  reappear  unchecked  in 
tenfold  repetition,  with  half-pp.  blank.  "  C  est  magnifique,  mais  ce  n'est  pas  la 
guerre  !"  It  resembled  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  Arcadian  "  Shepherd's  boy  piping,  as 
though  he  should  never  be  old,"  but  the  hard  necessities  of  life  awaken  us  betimes. 
In  vol.  i.  were  only  116  Roxburghe  Ballads;  in  vol.  ii.  125;  66  more  (of  the 
158  contained  in  vol.  iii.)  completed  the  original  first  volume  of  the  Roxburghe 
Collection,  which  numbered  307  ballads.  (The  total  of  complete  ballads  in  these 
3  vols.,  under  Mr.  Wm.  Chappell's  care, 
amounted  to  399  ;  of  which  92  belonged 
to  Roxb.  Coll.,  Vol.  II.)  The  present 
Editor  in  this  final  vol.  vii.  must  now 
include  nearly  as  many  ballads  as  had 
filled  the  earliest  three. — Q.E.D. 

[He  belongs  to  pp.  112,  161,  '  A  Fairing  ; '  She  to  p.  167,  '  The  Bonny  Bryer:~\ 


[Roxb.  Coll.,  II.  460  and  467  ;  Jersey,  III.  79  ;  Wood's,  E.  25,  fol.  42.] 

C&e  Ctuc  Letters'  Fictotp; 

©r,  QLfyz  Northern  Couple  arcrceo. 

"With  sugred  words  and  smiling  looks 

He  did  [so]  charm  her  sences, 
That  she  did  yield  unto  his  Love 

For  all  her  late  pretences  ! 

To  A  rare  Northern  Tune,  Or,  Jennie's  Cog-ivheel.     [See  p.  177-] 

A  Bonny  blith  Lad  in  the  North  Countrey, 
Whom  Cupid  had  wounded  most  craftily, 
He  met  with  his  Love,  and  he  told  her  his  mind, 
And  thus  he  did  greet  her  with  words  so  kind  : 

"  Come  sit  thee  down  by  me,  mine  own  sweet  joy, 
Thou  wilt  quite  kill  me  if  thou  prove  coy  ; 
Should' st  thou  prove  coy,  and  not  love  me, 
Where  shall  I  find  such  a  one  as  thee  ? 

"  I  have  been  at  Wakes,  and  I  have  been  at  Fa[i]res, 
Yet  ne'r  could  I  meet  one  that  with  thee  compares  ; 
Far  have  I  travel'd,  yet  never  could  find 
One  I  lov'd  like  thee,  if  thou  prove  so  kind. 

"  Thou  shalt  have  a  gay  gown  of  the  best, 
With  gay  fine  buskins  thy  feet  shall  be  drest ; 
With  c[h]nplets  of  Roses  thy  head  shall  be  crowned, 
And  thy  pink  petticoat  shall  he  lae'd  round. 

' '  When  thou  art  drest  in  thy  robes  so  gay, 
Thou  shalt  be  seen  like  the  Queen  of  May  ; 
The  bonny  youns;  Lasses  that  lives  by  thee 
Shall  all  take  delight  in  thy  company. 

"We  will  go  early  to  the  brook  side, 
And  catch  [the]  fishes  as  they  do  glide  : 
Every  little  fish  thy  prisoner  shall  be, 
Thou  shalt  catch  them,  and  I'le  catch  thee. 

[Son//  begins 




The  True  Lovers'  Victory.  177 

"  The  Birds  in  the  grove  shall  come  at  thy  beck, 
And  from  thy  lilly- white  hands  they  shall  peck  ; 
And  whilst  with  their  notes  about  thee  they  play, 
I  will  sing  [to]  thee  a  Bouudelay. 

"  Now  let  me  kiss  thy  cherry  lips  fair, 

And  praise  all  thy  features  that  are  so  rare  ; 

Thy  forehead  is  high  and  lofty  doth  rise, 

Thy  sweet  ruby  lips  and  thy  pretty  black  eyes.  64 

"  ITe  lye  b[es]y[de]  thee  all  the  cold  night, 
Thou  'st  want  nothing  for  thy  delight ; 
Thou  shalt  have  anything,  thou  shalt  have  me  : 
Surely  I  have  something  that  will  please  thee." 

She  hearing  her  Lover  thus  kindly  complain, 

From  making  him  answer  she  could  not  refrain  ; 

She  gave  him  her  hand,  with  a  low  curtesie, 

And  thus  she  replyed,  "  I'le  have  none  but  thee  !  80 

"  Thy  bonny  fair  face,  and  thy  -words  so  sweet, 
Did  conquer  my  heart  when  we  first  did  meet ; 
Ther's  never  a  Lad  in  the  North  Countrey 
Shall  ever  have  my  favor  but  only  thee ! 

"  Then  let  us  gang  to  the  Kirk  now  with  speed, 

For  why  ?  I  think  long  till  we  do  the  deed : 

Since  I  may  have  any  thing,  I  will  have  thee, 

Because  thou  hast  something  that  will  please  me  !  "  96 

Printed  for  F.  Coles,  T.  Vere,  J.  Wright,  J.  Clarke. 

[In  Black-letter,  with  one  woodcut,  which  is  the  reverse  of  ours  on  p.  176. 
Date,  circa  1672,  or  at  latest,  1681.] 

*#*  This  "  True  Lovers'  Victory ' '  appears  to  be  a  broadside  elongation  of 
"  The  New  Scotch  Song  "  printed  in  the  second  part  of  Westminster- Drollery, 
p.  4,  1672,  there  beginning  with  "  Sit  tha'  do'on  be  me,  mine  awn  sweet  joy ; 
Thouse  quite  kill  me  suedst  thou  prove  coy,"  etc. :  compare  our  second  stanza, 
"  Come  sit  thee  down  by  me,  mine  own  sweet  joy,"  etc.  Yet  the  Drollery  song 
is  so  inferior,  with  its  execrable  Anglo-Scotch,  its  most  villainous  spelling- 
deformity  to  imitate  the  supposititious  pronunciation  of  Northern  speech,  that  a 
lingering  suspicion  of  the  harmless  broadside  ballad  being  the  original,  spoilt 
in  imitation  when  cut  down  to  a  song,  is  not  wholly  untenable.  The  Drollery 
"  Answer  to  the  Scotch  Song,  and  to  that  tune,"  beginning  "  Sibby  cryes  'To 
the  wood  coom  follow  me  ! '  "  has  no  resemblance  to  our  Scotch  maiden's  answer. 
Of  the  ballad,  therefore,  stanzas  1,  4,  6,  9,  10,  and  11  are  unrepresented  in  the 
song.     Her  final  line  is  from  a  suggestion  at  end  of  his  address,  ninth  stanza. 

We  know  not  the  original  Jenny's  Cog-wheel,  which  was  probably  of 
eccentric  movement  and  involved  construction.  It  is  left  to  the  Muck-Dougall, 
as  belonging  to  his  locality.  Whosoever  was  the  composer,  unknown,  the  music  is 
in  Plavford's  Choice  Ayres,  i.  76,  1679  (without  "Sibby  cries,"  etc.);  and  a 
broadside  version  of  "Sit  tha  down  be  me"  is  Kawlinson  Coll.,  -566,  fol.  110. 
Words  in  Wit  and  Mirth,  p.  275,  1691 ;  p.  215,  1699.  Not  repeated  in  Pills, 
edition  1719.  Henry  Bold's  third  canton,  p.  13,  of  Latine  Songs,  1685,  is  an 
adaptation,  beginning,  '  Mihi  sis  Assedo  {melleum  Cor),  Si  dura  fas,  Emorior,1 
etc.  A  fifth  stanza  (not  in  Westm.  D.)  is  given  by  Playford  :  — "  What  man  we 
do  when  scrip  is  fro  ?  Weez  gang  to  the  House  at  the  Hill  broo  ;  And  there  weez 
fray  and  eat  the  fish  ;  But  'tis  thy  Flesh  makes  the  best  dish."  Cannibalistic 
Papuans  like  the  diet :  around  the  social  fire  they  sing  "  Let  the  toast,  let  th°, 
Toast  be  dear  Woman  !  and  three  cheers  for  the  Girl  that  we  love  "  (done  brown). 

VOL.    VII.  n 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  455  ;  Euing,  349.] 

Cbe  Crappan'D  Vk#in; 

@r,  cjooti  lobice  to  fflafacns,  tfjat  tfycg  mag  not  be  brafon  into 
Pr[el]fmtnargt0  bg  [any  of]  trje  specious  Pretences  of  trjet'r  seemmrj. 
Amorists,  hrijo  pairing  once  obtain'*)  Itjcir  EJEills,  leabe  ant)  forsake 
tfjeir  betrag'o  fHistresses. 

Take  ray  Advice  while  you  are  free,  and  Young-men  do  not  trust ; 
They  promise  fa[i]re  as  fa[i]re  can  he,  but  mean  what  is  unjust. 

Tune,  When  Busie  Fame.     [See  vol.  vi.  p.  102] 

OOme  mourn  with  me,  you  Ladies  all,  whom  young  men  have  betrayed  ; 
I  was  belov'd  of  great  and  small,  and  thought  a  virtuous  maid  : 
At  length  a  Young-man  to  me  came,  and  he  did  me  much  wrong, 
For  he  betray'd  a  harmless  Maid  with  his  deluding  tongue. 
Such  vows  and  protestations  he  did  to  me  often  use,  [  =  made  me 

"With  sighs  and  sobs  that  pittyed  me,  so  that  I  could  not  chuse  pitiful. 

But  condescen'd  to  his  desire,  by  which  I'me  ruin'd  quite, 
In  a  hapless  hour  he  crop't  the  flower  wherein  I  took  delight.  16 

My  Virgin's  name  I  must  disown,  which  grieves  me  to  the  heart ; 
And  since  my  maiden-head  is  flown,  I  feele  such  deadly  smart, 
That  makes  me  oft  desire  to  dye,  to  be  freed  from  that  shame 
All  will  bestow  on  me,  I  know,  who  ever  hear  the  same. 

But  this  may  somewhat  me  excuse,  which  brings  me  some  content, 

Obstinately  I  did  Refuse,  and  would  not  give  consent, 

Till  he  did  vow  and  swear  to  me  he  would  make  me  his  "Wife ; 

But  now  I  find  he  hath  chang'd  his  mind,  I  am  weary  of  my  life.  32 

And  he  from  me  is  fled  and  gone,  a  false  and  perjur'd  wretch  ; 
"Whilst  by  my  self  I  make  my  moan,  and  many  a  sigh  do  fetch  : 
But  'tis  in  vain  I  plainly  find,  since  nothing  will  availe, 
"Why  should  I  sigh  away  my  life,  unless  I  could  prevail  ? 

Take  warning  by  me,  Maidens  fair,  and  do  not  be  Trappan'd  ; 

To  their  pretences  give  no  ear,  for,  if  they  understand 

You'r  of  a  gentle  nature  [grown],  and  begin  to  them  to  yield, 

They'l  flatter  on  till  you'r  undone,  and  they  have  won  the  Field.  48 

"When  they  have  got  what  they  desire,  their  passion  's  at  an  end, 
They'l  coole  that  seeming  fervent  fire,  and  you  shall  lose  your  friend  ; 
But  keep  them  at  a  distance,  and  you'l  find  them  stoop  amain  : 
So  you  may  be  from  dangers  free,  and  need  not  to  complain. 

Such  good  Advice  I  once  did  want,  which  makes  me  now  lament, 

And  when  too  late  I  think  upon  't,  it  breeds  such  discontent, 

That  1  do  wish  ten  thousand  times  I  had  his  suit  deny'd, 

"Who  now  I  find  doth  prove  unkind,  and  me  hath  terrified  !  64 

False-hearted  men,  where  e're  you  be,  think  not  for  to  escape  ; 

For  what  you  ^ain  by  Treachery  is  next  kinn  to  a  rape, 

And  will  in  time  requited  be  with  some  most  just  reward  : 

Hereafter,  then,  prove  honest  men,  and  faithful  to  your  word. 

Printed  for  F.  Cole[s],  T.  Vere,  J.  Wright,  J.  Clark,  W.  Thackery,  and 

T.  Passenger. 

[In  Black-letter.     "Woodcut,  the  reverse  of  one  on  p.  176.     Date,  before  1682.] 

Audi  alteram  partem  .'    A  vile  seducer  speaks,  self-convicted,  on  pp.  179-181. 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  548  ;    Jersey,  I.  282,  344  ;    II.  2 ;    Pepys,  III.  23  ; 
Douce,  II.  262 ;  C.  22.  e.  2,  fol.  26.] 

X  goung  ffl9an  put  to  J)te  S>t)tft£ ; 

%ty  Kantmg  goung  ^an'0  Krgohmom " 

Wherein  is  showd  how  young  "Wenches  he  doth  please, 
And  of  their  heavy  burdens  he  doth  them  ease  ; 

With  cunning  tricks  he  their  fancies  up  doth  feed, 
And  they  him  relieve  when  he  doth  stand  in  need. 

To  the  Tune  [its  own]  of,  Cupid's  Trappan.     [See  Note,  p.  181.] 

[Tins  cut  btlottys  to  the  '  George  Stoole'  ballad  on  p.  68.] 

OF  late  did  I  hear  a  young  damsel  complain, 
And  rail  much  against  a  young  man, 
His  cause  and  his  state,  I'le  now  vindicate, 

And  hold  battle  with  Cupid's  trappan,  brave  boys  ! 
And  hold  [battle  with  Cupid's  trappan]. 

180  A  Young  Man  pat  to  his  Shifts. 

Surely  she  thinks  I  am  stark  mad, 

To  wed  every  Girl  I  do  see  ; 

No,  let  her  stay  a  while,  for  I  can  make  a  fool 

Of  twenty  far  better  than  she,  brave  boys  !      Of  twenty,  etc. 

For  if  I  court  a  Maid,  she  shall  get  nothing  by  't ; 

For  so  soon  as  her  money  is  gone, 

And  I  have  got  her  rings,  and  other  fine  things, 

Then  the  Divel  may  take  her  for  John,  brave  boys.    Then  the,  etc. 

I  can  give  them  fair  words,  but  little  good  deeds, 

Any  girl  of  me  [this]  shall  find, 

And  if  I  see  she  will  do't,  then  I  put  her  to  't, 

But  strait  I  can  turn  ivith  the  wind,  brave  boys.    But  strait,  etc. 

He's  but  a  fool  that  will  fawn  of  a  Maid,  21 

Although  she  seem  never  so  coy  ; 

Make  though  you'd  be  gon[e],  she'l  bid  you  come  on, 

If  you  tell  her  you'' I  yet  her  a  boy,  brave  boys.     If  you,  etc. 

But  if  she  don't  find  thou  can'st  stir  up  her  blood, 

She  will  laugh  and  jear  thee  to  thy  face  ; 

But  if  she  perceives  thou  can'st  do  her  some  good, 

Then  thy  body  she  strait  will  unbrace,  brave  boys.    Then  thy,  etc. 

As  for  my  own  part,  I  value  it  not  a  pin, 

I  care  not  what  Girl  doth  it  know, 

But  the  coyest  lass  I  can  easily  win, 

And  briny  her  unto  my  own  bow,  brave  boys.     And  briny,  etc. 

I  drink  off  the  best,  and  live  at  heart's  ease, 

For  Money  I  take  little  care ; 

I  can  hum[ou]r  young  wenches,  and  have  what  I  please, 

Be  it  never  so  fine  and  so  rare,  brave  boys.     Be  it,  etc. 

I  Count  him  a  noddy  that  can't  win  a  Maid,  41 

To  buckle,  to  bow,  and  to  bend  ; 
And,  if  he  stands  in  need,  to  do  a  good  deed, 
And  to  give  him  some  money  in  hand,  brave  boys.     And  to,  etc. 

Tho'  maidens  do  seem  coy  on  it,  they  long  till  they  ha't, 

Either  Mary,  Sue,  Bridget  or  Nan  : 

If  they  were  put  to  [own]  their  choice,  for  to  lye  alone, 

They  had  rather  to  lye  with  a  Man,  brave  boys  !     They  had,  etc. 

For  dayly  and  hourely  full  often  it  is  seen 
"What  [sort  of]  Maiden  'tis  will  lye  alone  : 
If  she  han't  a  husband  when  she  is  fifteen, 
She  thinks  she  shall  never  have  none,  brave  boys  !    She  thinks,  etc. 

So  it  doth  [soon]  appear  how  hasty  they  are 

The  fruits  of  love  for  to  tast[e]  : 

It  makes  their  great  belly  the  truth  for  to  tell  ye 

They've  been  clipping  a  man  about  'h  ivast\_e~],  brave  boys.  They,  etc. 

A  Young  Man  put  to  his  Shifts.  181 

There's  choice  of  young  Damsels  I  have  at  command,  61 

That  with  mon[e]y  my  pockets  both  fe[ed]. 

And  if  I  want  a  bout,  they  will  not  stand  out, 

To  help  a  good  turn  in  my  need,  brave  boys  !     To  help,  etc. 

If  I  cheat  a  young  damsel,  the  fault's  none  of  mine, 

To  her  self  she  better  may  look  ; 

For  I'le  lay  my  bait,  by  day  or  [by]  night, 

Be  sure  I  take  her  of  my  hook,  brave  boys  !     Be  sure,  etc. 

And  when  I  ha'  caught  her,  be  sure  she's  my  own, 

For  a  little  we  two  do  imbrace  ; 

But  before  we  go  to  church,  I  leave  her  i'  th'  lurch, 

Thus  I  cheat  her  unto  her  own  face,  brave  boys  !     Thus  I,  etc. 

I'le  never  be  bound  when  I  may  live  free, 

Nor  I'le  never  be  tied  to  a  wife, 

Their's  sope,  fire  and  candle,  a  child  for  to  dandle, 

Which  makes  a  man  weary  on's  life,  brave  boys  !      Which,  etc. 

So  I  get  but  the  child,  let  who  will  it  keep,  81 

For  my  part  I  do  mean  to  keep  none  ; 

So  I  have  but  the  sport,  let  them  provide  for  't, 

For  so  soon  as  I've  done  I  am  gone,  brave  boys  !     For  so,  etc. 

For  if  I  should  keep  all  the  Children  I  get, 

I  should  have  a  great  many  lives ; 

I  will  take  a  halter  and  cut  my  own  throat, 

Before  I'le  have  so  many  wives,  [brave  boys  /]     Before,  etc. 

For  Gentleman-like  I  live  as  I  be, 

And  am  free  from  care  and  sorrow  ; 

If  never  a  penny  I  have  over-night, 

Be  sure  I  have  some  the  next  morrow,  brave  boys.     Be  sure,  etc. 

So  young  men  I'le  leave  you  :  make  use  of  your  time, 

For  so  long  as  my  co[un]s[el]  doth  hold, 

I  am  sure  of  this,  let  it  hit  or  miss, 

/  shall  want  neither  Silver  nor  Gold,  brave  boys, 

I  shall  want  neither  silver  nor  gold.  100 

london,  Printed  for  W.  Thackeray,  T.  Passenger,  and  W.  Whitwood. 

[In  Black-letter.  Three  woodcuts.  1st,  the  lady,  vi.  288,  left;  2nd,  the 
amorous  gallant,  vi.  78,  right;  3rd,  couple,  iv.  15.  Date,  circa  1670.] 
***  This  young  scapegrace  befittingly  illustrates  the  evil  results  of  such 
principles  as  are  announced  in  "The  New  Way  of  Marriage"  (p.  158).  We 
have  already  (in  vol.  vi.  pp.  525  and  531)  told  the  history  and  sequence  of  the 
"  Cupid's  Trappan"  series  of  ballads.  This  one  was  delayed,  and  the  original 
is  given  later,  "  The  Willow  changed  into  Carnation,"  with  "  The  Willow  Green  " 
(Roxb.  Coll. ,11 1.  132).  Next  ballad  has  the  same  tune,  Bonny  bonny  Bird.  The 
two  burdens,  contrasting  what  '  went  well'  and  '  went  ilV  (lines  10,  15,  40,  100), 
coincide  with  Westminster-Drollery,  ii.  54,  1672,  "  I  went  to  the  Tavern,  and 
then,"  etc. 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  III.  100.     Apparently  Unique.] 

€&c  Patient  ipustmnti  ann  tbe  ^coultung;  COtfe. 

£  homing  horn  he  both  complain  of  barb  fortune,  fjc  hab  to  martg 
suclj  a  cross^grain'b  ©uean  as  ssfje  mas,  anb  he  mishes  all  goung 
men  to  be  abbiscb  to  look  before  then  leap. 

You  Batchellors  where  ere  you  be, 
This  Counsell  here  now  take  of  me, 
(  huse  not  a  wife  that's  too  precise, 
For  fear  she  should  pluck  out  your  eyes. 
To  the  Tune  of,  [Once  did  I  love  a]  Bonny,  bonny  bird.    [See  p.  181.] 

[This  cut  shows  the  ill-usage  of  Patient-Husbands  by  Scolding  Wives  :  seep.  184.] 

LI  you  gallants  in  City  or  Town, 
Come  listen  a  while  to  my  song, 
To  you  I'le  relate  with  seeking  a  mate, 

flow  that  I  my  self 'a  done  ivrohg,  brave  boys  ! 
How  that  I  my  self ''a  done  wrong. 


"When  as  I  was  single  as  some  of  you  be, 

I  was  beloved  like  other  young  men  ; 
I  liv'd  at  my  ease,  and  I  did  what  I  please ; 

And  the  world  it  went  ivell  loith  me  then,  brave  boys  ! 

And  the  world  it  icent  well  with  me  then. 

I  could  kiss  a  young  Maid,  and  she'd  never  seem  coy, 
And  sometimes  she  would  kiss  me  again  ; 

And  perhaps  at  the  last  I  could  get  her  a  boy, 

Oh  the  world  it  went  well  with  me  then  [brave  boys'],  etc. 


Thv  Patient  Husband  and  Scolding  Wife.  183 

Thus  bravely  I  liv'd  without  any  controul, 

And  had  silver  good  store  lying  by  ; 
I  could  sing  and  be  merry,  drink  white-wine  and  sherry, 

Then  who  but  sweet  "William  and  I  [brave  boys],  etc.  20 

Yet  I  could  not  be  content,  but  a  wooing  I'd  go, 

To  get  me  a  Wife  of  my  own  ; 
I  got  one  at  the  last,  but  she  proves  a  shrew, 

And  set  horns  where  there  never  was  none,  brave  boys,  etc. 

I  married  in  hast[e],  but  at  leasure  repent, 

I  would  be  so  fool'd  by  a  wife  ; 
She'l  pout  and  she'l  lower,  she'l  frown  and  look  sower, 

Then  I  dare  not  stir  for  my  life,  brave  boys  :   Then,  etc.        30 

"When  I  went  to  Church,  I  was  led  by  two  Maids, 

And  the  musick  did  play  gallantly ; 
My  Wife  she  did  dance,  and  her  spirits  advance, 

And  she  slcipt  up  and  down  like  a  fly,  brave  boys.  And  she,  etc. 
But  e're  we'd  been  married  one  month  to  an  end, 

To  search  my  Pockets  she  strait  ways  began, 
She  took  me  by  the  ears,  and  she  sent  me  to  fears, 

Oh,  the  world  it  went  ill  with  me  then,  etc.         [see  Note,  p.  181. 
She  turn'd  me  about,  and  she  gave  me  a  rost, 

Such  a  one  as  I  ne're  had  before, 
Her  hands  were  so  quick,  my  sides  she  did  lick, 

And  did  beat  me  till  I  did  roar,  etc. 

The  more  I  did  pray  y1  these  storms  they  might  cease, 

The  longer  I  think  they  did  rise ; 
The  more  I  did  pray  that  we  might  live  in  peace, 

The  more  mischief  she  still  devise,  etc.  50 

If  that  in  an  Ale-house  I  chance  for  to  pop, 

Then  presently  comes  all  my  fears ; 
I'm  sure  to  have  blows,  also  bitter  Oaths, 

If  I  be  not  wrung  by  the  ears,  etc. 

One  day  we'd  a  bout,  and  I  held  her  too't, 

Till  with  the  Ladle  she  broke  all  my  nose  ;         tSee  pp-  20- 188- 
Nay,  worse  then  all  this,  my  self  I  be[m]ist, 

And  in  truth  I  befowVd  both  my  hose,  etc.  60 

Surely  ther's  no  man  that  liveth  on  earth 

That  hath  such  a  cross  wife  as  she ; 
"Which  makes  me  to  swear :  "  Young  men  have  a  care !  " 

For  the  case  it  is  altered  with  me,  etc. 

Thrice  happy  is  he  that  hath  a  good  wife  ; 

But  far  better's  that  young  man 
That  settels  him  self  to  live  a  single  life, 

Then  would  I  teas  unmarried  again,  etc.  70 


The  Patient  Husband  and  Scolding  Wife. 

For  those  ladys  are  so  false  a  man  can't  them  trust, 

And  so  much  they  are  given  to  lies, 
If  a  man  he  don't  please  them  at  every  turn, 

Then  they'r  ready  to  pluck  old  his  eyes,  etc. 

They'l  kick,  fling,  and  throw,  they'l  fret  and  they'l  frown, 
As  if  they  was  going  mad  you  wou'd  swear  ; 

And  some  Girls  on  their  bellies  more  means  will  consume 
In  one  week  then  they' 'I  get  in  a  year,  etc.  80 

Therefore  honest  young  men  had  need  to  beware, 

(For  my  part  my  own  ruine  I've  brought), 
And  of  flattering  Damsels  to  have  a  great  care  : 

For  '  wit's  never  good  till  'tis  bought,''  etc. 

For  now  by  experience  I  plainly  do  find 

What  troubles  some  men  do  uphoor'd  : 
[He]  that  hath  a  cross  wife,  he's  ne're  sure  of  his  life, 

To  live  quiet  in  bed  nor  at  board,  etc.  90 

If  she  ha'n't  her  humour  in  everything, 

Then  his  head  with  the  ladle  she'l  greet ; 
And  at  night,  I  suppose,  if  be  don't  jostle  close, 

Then  she'l  kick  him  out  at  the  bed's  feet,  etc. 

So  Batchellors  all,  now  my  leave  I'le  take, 

This  counsell  is  good  for  all  honest  young  men  ; 

If  I  was  shut  of  this  quean,  you  know  what  I  mean,         [Note. 
Oh,  the  ivorld  ivoidd  go  well  with  me  then,  brave  boys, 
Oh  the  ivorld  ivould  go  well  with  me  then.  100 

Printed  for  W.  Thackeray,  at  the  Golden  Sugar-Loaf,  in  Buck-Lane. 

[In  Black-letter,  with  three  woodcuts.  1st  and  2nd,  as  in  vi.  195  left,  and  vi. 
163  right:  the  3rd  is  below.  Date,  1660-80,  probably  circa  1673.] 
'  To  be  Shut  of  still  lingers  provincially  =  clear  or  free  of  a  thing.  On  p.  182 
an  extra  cut  is  given,  the  first  figure  represents  a  humiliated  '  hen-pecked  frigate ' 
of  a  husband  riding  reverse-way  at  a  Skimming  ton  festival,  called  Hiding  the 
Stai/g  (for  description  of  which  see  Eudibras,  part  ii.  canto  2,  1663).  The  gang 
of  women  evilly-entreats  another  Husband,  one  who  has  been  too  liberal  with  his 
talent  outside  his  household.    (See  pp.  194-196  for  an  account  of  Horn-Fair.) 


[Roxb.  Collection,  II.  534 ;  Pepys,  IV.  100 ;  Euing,  397,  398 ;  Jersey,  I.  268.] 

Ci)e  Ottoman  to  tyt  jMoto, 

0no  tf)t  span  to  tgc  ^emHoogt ; 
£>r,  a  fine  toap  to  tut*  a  Cot^uetm    [P.  m. 

The  Tune  is,  I  have  for  all  good  wives  a  Song.      [See  p.  187.1 

BOth  Men  and  Women,  listen  well, 
A  merry  jest  I  will  you  tell, 
Betwixt  a  Good-man  and  his  Wife, 
Who  fell  the  other  day  at  strife  : 
He  chid  her  for  her  Huswivery, 
And  she  found  fault  as  well  as  he 
With  him  for's  work  without  the  doors, 
Quoth  he,  "  A  pox  on  all  such  whores  !         ial- lect-,  'scores.' 
Sith  you  and  I  cannot  agree, 

Let's  change  our  work  !  "   "  Content !  "  quoth  she, 
"  My  Wheel  and  Distaffe  here  take  thou, 

And  I  will  drive  the  Cart  and  Plow."  12 

This  was  concluded  'twixt  them  both, 

To  cart  and  plow  the  good-wife  goeth. 

The  Goodman  he  at  home  doth  tarry, 

To  see  that  nothing  doth  miscarry; 

An  apron  he  before  him  put, 

Judge,  was  not  this  a  hansome  slut  ? 

He  fleets  the  milk,  he  makes  the  chese,  [skims  milk. 

He  gropes  the  hens,  the  ducks  and  geese  :  lsr- for  esss- 

He  brews  and  bakes  as  well  as  he  can, 

But  not  as  it  should  be  done,  poor  man! 

As  [he]  did  make  his  cheese  one  day, 

Two  pigs  their  bellies  broke  with  whey.  24 

Nothing  that  he  in  hand  did  take 

Hid  come  to  good  ;  once  he  did  bake, 

And  burnt  the  bread  as  black  as  a  stock ; 

Another  time  he  went  to  rock 

The  cradle,  and  threw  the  child  o'  th'  floor, 

And  broke  his  nose,  and  hurt  it  sore. 

He  went  to  milk,  one  evening  tide, 

A  skittish  Cow  on  the  wrong  side  ; 

His  pail  was  full  of  milk,  God  wot, 

She  kickt  and  spilt  it  every  jot ; 

Besides,  she  hit  him  a  blost  o'  th'  face 

Which  was  scant  well  in  six  weeks'  space.  36 

186  Woman  to  the  Plow,  Man  to  Hen-roost. 

Thus  was  lie  served,  and  yet  to[o]  well, 
And  more  mischances  yet  befell ; 
Before  his  apron  he'd  leave  off, 
Though  all  his  neighbours  did  him  scoff. 
Now  list  and  mark  one  pretty  jest, 
'Twill  make  you  laugh  above  all  the  rest, 
As  he  to  churn  his  butter  went, 
One  morning  with  a  good  intent, 

The  Cot-quean  fool  did  surely  dream,  [Molly-coddle. 

For  he  had  quite  forgot  the  cream. 
He  churn'd  all  day,  with  all  his  might, 
And  yet  he  could  get  no  butter  at  night.  48 

V  PWere  strange,  indeed,  for  me  to  utter 
JL      That  without  creame  he  should  make  butter. 
Row  baving  shew'd  his  huswivery, 
"Who  did  all  things  thus  untowardly, 
Unto  the  Good-wife  I'le  turn  my  rhime, 
And  tell  you  how  she  spent  her  time. 
She  us'd  to  drive  the  cart  and  plow, 
But  do't  well  she  knew  not  how, 

She  made  so  many  banks  i'  th'  ground,  f?"-  batdks. 

He  [had]  been  better  to  have  given  five  pound 
That  she  had  never  ta'ne  in  hand, 
So  sorely  she  did  spoil  the  land.  60 

As  she  did  go  to  Sow  likewise, 

She  made  a  feast  for  crows  and  pies, 

She  threw  away  a  han'ful  at  a  place, 

And  left  all  bare  another  space. 

At  the  Harrow  she  could  not  rule  the  Mare, 

But  did  one  land,  and  left  two  bare. 

And  shortly  after,  one  a  day,  [°n  a  day* 

As  she  came  home  with  a  load  of  hay, 

She  overthrew  it,  nay  and  worse, 

She  broke  the  cart  and  kill'd  a  horse. 

The  good-man  that  time  had  ill  luck, 

He  let  in  the  sow  and  [she]  kill'd  a  duck,  72 

And  being  grieved  at  his  heart, 
For  loss  on's  duck,  his  horse  and  cart, 
The  many  hurts  on  both  sides  done, 
His  eyes  did  with  salt  water  run  : 
"  Then  now,"  quoth  he,  "full  well  I  see, 
The  Wheel's  for  her,  the  Plow's  for  me. 
I  thee  intreat,"  quoth  he,  "  good-wife, 
To  take  thy  Charge,  and,  all  my  life, 
I'le  never  meddle  with  huswivery  more, 
Nor  find  such  faults  as  I  did  before.  84 

Woman  to  the  Plow,  Man  to  Hen-roost.  187 

Give  me  the  cart-whip  and  the  frail, 

Take  thou  the  churn  and  milking  pail."  96 

The  Good  wife  she  was  well  content, 

And  about  her  huswivery  she  went. 

He  to  hedging  and  to  ditching, 

Heaping,  mowing,  lading,  pitching, 

He  would  be  twatling  still  before,  iLe-  prating 

Uut  after  that  ne'r  twattled  more. 

I  wish  all  Wives  that  troubled  be, 

"With  Hose-and-doublet  Huswivery, 

To  serve  them  as  this  woman  did. 

Then  may  they  work  and  ne'r  be  chid : 

Though  she  i'  th'  int'rim  had  some  loss, 

Thereby  she  was  eased  of  a  Cross.  108 

Take  heed  of  this,  you  Husband-men, 

Let  "Wives  alone  to  grope  the  hen, 

And  meddle  you  with  the  horse  and  ox, 

And  keep  your  lambs  safe  from  the  fox. 
So  shall  you  live  Contented  lives, 
And  take  sweet  pleasure  in  your  Wives. 

Jtnts.         [Probably  by  Martin  Parker. 

Printed  for  J.  Wright,  J.  Clarice,  W.  Thackeraxj,  and  T.  Passinger. 

[This  agrees  with  the  Pepys'  exemplar  and  second  Ening ;  Euing  397  was  the 
original,  entered,  22  June,  1629,  "  printed  for  F.  Grove,  dwelling  on  Snow-hill." 
In  Black-letter,  with  four  cuts.     1st  and  2nd  on  p.  140;  3rd,  p.   163,  left; 
4th,  p.  166,  right.     Printed  without  division  into  stanzas.     Date,  1629.] 
*#*  The  tune,  '  I  have  for  all  good  wives  a  song,''  is  so  named  from  the  first 
line  of  a  ballad  (transferred,  1st  June,  1629),  entitled,  "  A  Merry  Dialogue  betwixt 
a  married  man  and  his  wife,  concerning  the  affaires  of  this  lyfe,"  reprinted  in 
Eoxhurghe  Ballads,   ii.    159  :    one  probably  written  by  Martin  Parker,  whose 
initials  of  M.P.  are  attached  to  another  ballad,  "Man's  Felicity  and  Misery, 
which  is  a  Good  Wife  and  a  Bad,"  sung  to  the  self-same  tune  as  this,  beginning, 
"  Kind  Couzen  David,  prithee  stay  !  "  and  reprinted  in  the  same  volume,  ii.  p.  183. 
Mr.  Win.  Chappell  thereupon  remarked  that  "  Martin  Parker  would  more  prob- 
ably select  his  own  ballads  than  those  of  his  contemporaries  to  give  names  to 
tunes;  "  we  might  also  guess,  by  parity  of  reasoning,  that  the  present  ballad 
was  written  by  Martin  Parker  :  a  theory  by  no  means  improbable. 

In  principle  and  story  it  agrees  with  the  early  Scottish  ballad  of  '  The  Wyfe 
of  Auchtermuchty  '  in  the  Bannantyne  MS.,  signed  "  Mofat  "  =  Sir  John  Moffatt 
(reprinted  in  Allan  Ramsay's  Evergreen,  i.  137,  1724,  and  elsewhere),  "  In 
Auchtirmuchty  their  dwelt  ane  man,  ane  husband,  as  I  hard  it  tauld,"  etc., 
whence  Allan  Cunningham  constructed  his  modern  ditty,  popular  in  the  North, 
"  John  Grumlie  swore  by  the  light  o'  the  moon,  and  the  green  leaves  on  the 
tree;  That  he  could  do  more  work  in  a  day  than  his  wife  could  do  in  three." 
(See  A.  C.'s  Songs  of  Scotland,  ii.  123,  1825.  He  pretended  to  have  taken  it, 
as  a  Nithsdale  song,  from  the  recitation  of  George  Duff,  of  Dumfries.)  In 
Wright  and  Halliwell's  Reliquim  Antique,  ii.  196,  1843,  is  the  earliest  part  or 
fytte  of  an  English  "  Ballad  of  a  Tyrannical  Husband,"  still  more  ancient,  temp. 
Henri.  VII.     Compare  also  the  Silva  Sermonum  jocundissimorum,  circu  1568. 


[Roxb.  C,  II.  576  ;  Pepys,  IV.  143  ;  Rawl.,  12 ;  "Wood,  E.  25,  68  ;  C.  22,  66 ;  Jer.] 

®®p  GMifz  ttrill  tic  mp  paster; 

©r,  trje  fHarrtc^fHan's  (Complaint  against  fjt'g  mnrulrj  ®Kife, 
being  a  Earning  for  all  Unmarrieto  persons  to  ijaue  a  special  care 
in  crjoosinrj  tljct'r  iHaifce,  lest  tljcg  meet  rottlj  such,  a  £Hgre=sn2pe 
as  tj)ts  poor=man  tuU 

To  the  Tune  of,  A  Taylour  is  no  Man.     [See  p.  189.] 

o  wi  RogUe  JpenJihyMcmy 

AS  I  was  walking  forth  of  late,  I  heard  a  man  complaining  : 
With  that  1  drew  me  near  to  him.  to  know  the  cause  and  meaning 
Of  this  his  sorrow,  pain  and  grief,  which  bred  him  such  disaster ; 
"  Alace  !  "  quoth  he,  "  what  shall  I  do  ?  my  Wife  will  be  my  Master. 

"  If  I  should  give  her  fourty  pound,  within  her  apron  folding, 
No  longer  then  she['s]  telling  on't,  her  tongue  leaves  never  scolding : 
As  JEsop's  dog  barkt  at  the  Moon,  [a]  thing  for  to  distaste  her, 
So  doth  my  wife  scold  without  cause,  and  strives  to  be  my  Master. 

"  Were  I  so  strong  as  Hercules,  or  wiser  then  Apollo ; 

Or  had  I  Icarus''  wings  to  flee,  my  Wife  would  after  follow  : 

Should  I  live  as  many  years  as  never  did  King  Nestor, 

Yet  do  I  greatly  stand  in  fear,  my  Wife  would  be  my  Master. 

"  I  know  no  cause  nor  reason  why  that  she  with  me  should  jangle, 
I  never  gave  her  cause  at  all  to  make  her  with  me  wrangle  : 
I  please  her  still  in  what  I  may,  and  do  no  jot  distaste  her, 
Yet  she  doth  strive  both  night  and  day  ahvayes  to  be  my  Master. 



My  Wife  will  be  my  Master.  189 

"  I  every  morning  make  a  fire,  all  which  is  done  to  ease  her ; 
I  <?et  a  nutmeg,  make  a  To[a]st,  in  hope  therewith  to  please  her  ; 
"With  a  cup  of  nappy  Ale  and  spice,  of  which  she  is  first  taster, 
And  yet  this  cross-grain'd  quean  will  scold,  and  strive  to  be  my  Master. 

1 '  I  wash  the  dishes,  sweep  the  house,  I  dress  the  wholesome  dyet ; 
I  humour  her  in  everything,  hecause  I  would  be  quyet: 
Of  every  several  dish  of  meat,  she'll  surely  be  first  taster, 
And  I  am  glad  to  pick  the  bones,  she  is  so  much  my  Muster.  48 

"  Sometimes  she'l  sit  while  day  be  light,  in  company  with  good  fellows, 
In  taverns  and  in  bowsing  Tents,  or  in  some  pimping  Ale-house  :     [  =  Kens. 
And  when  she  comes  home  drunk  at  night,  though  I  do  not  distaste  her, 
She'l  fling,  she'l  throw,  she'l  scratch,  she'l  bite,  and  strive  to  be  my  Master. 

"  Her  bed  I  made  both  soft  and  fine,  and  put  on  smock  compleatly ; 
Her  shooes  and  stockings  I  pull  off,  and  lay  her  down  most  neatly  : 
I  cover  her  and  keep  her  warm,  for  fear  I  should  [distaste]  her,       ['  offend.' 
I  hug  her  kindly  in  my  arms,  yet  still  she'1 1  be  my  Master.  64 

"  And  when  I  am  with  her  in  bed,  she  doth  not  use  me  well,  Sir ; 
She'l  wring  my  nose,  and  pull  my  ears,  a  pitifull  tale  to  tell,  Sir. 
And  when  I  am  with  her  in  bed,  not  meaning  to  molest  her, 
She'l  kick  me  out  at  her  bed's-feet,  and  so  become  my  Master. 

"  And  thus  you  hear  how  cruelly  my  Wife  doth  still  abuse  me, 
At  bed,  at  board,  at  noon,  at  night,  she  alwayes  doth  misuse  me  : 
But  if  I  were  a  lusty  man,  and  able  for  to  baste  her, 
Then  would  I  surely  use  a  means,  that  she  should  not  be  my  Master.  80 

"  You  Batchelours  that  sweet-hearts  have,  when  as  you  are  a  wooing, 
Be  sure  you  look  before  you  leap,  for  fear  of  your  undoing. 
The  after-wit  is  not  the  best,  and  he  that  weds  in  haste,  Sir, 
May  like  to  me  bewaile  his  case,  if  his  Wife  do  prove  his  Master. 

"  You  Married  Men  that  have  good  "Wives,  I  pray  you  make  much  [by]  them, 
For  they  more  precious  are  than  gold,  if  once  you  come  to  try  them  : 
A  good  Wife  makes  a  Husband  glad,  then  let  him  not  distaste  her ; 
But  a  Scold  will  make  a  man  run  mad,  if  once  she  prove  his  Master  !  "        96 
[But  if  ever  I  am  a  Widdower  and  another  wife  do  marry, 
I  mean  to  keep  her  poor  and  bare  and  the  purse  I  mean  to  carry.] 


[In  uncommonly  large  Black-letter.  Colophon  lost.  No  woodcut :  one,  described 
on  p.  164,  in  later  copies,  see  Contents  :  "  Printed  for  F.  Coles,  T.  Vere,  J. 
Wright,  and  /.  Clark;  "  Pepys  adds  W.  Thackeray  and  T.  Passenger;  also  a 
burden,  which  we  replace  after  line  96.      Date  circa  1610  ;  others  1681.] 

*#*  The  tune  is  marked  A  Taylor  is  no  Man  [_al.  led.,  a  Man],  A  ballad  of 
1689  (Douce,  II.  215  v.),  entitled  "  The  Taylor's  Vindication  ;  or,  An  Answer  to 
the  Warlike  Taylor,"  beginning,  "  Of  late  there  was  a  false  old  Knave,"  bears  the 
burden  of  '  A  Taylor  is  a  Man.'  (The  truth  of  the  assertion  had  been  denied.) 
The  whole  series  of  ballads  on  "  Tom  the  Taylor  near  the  Strand,  he  met  a  pretty 
Creature,"  testify  in  his  disfavour  with  ungenerous  malignity.  (Licensed 
12  June,  1684,  see  Boxb.  Coll.,  II.  263,  IV.  27  ;  mentioned  in  Bagford  Ballads, 
pp.  603,  606.)  One  begins,  "  I  am  a  Taylor  now  in  distress"  (Roxb  Coll.,  II. 
452);  another  "Taylor's  Lamentation"  was  quoted  in  vol.  vi.  p.  300,  "I'll 
sing  a  song  and  a  dainty  brave  song"  (different  version  by  J. P.  reads,  "  Come 
hear  a  song,  and  a  very  fine  song"  :  "The  Trapann'd  Taylor;  or,  A  Warning 
to  all  Taylors  ").     "  A  Taylor  in  the  Strand,  Touch  and  go  ! "  is  Bawl.'  Coll.,  92. 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  535  ;  Eiiing,  No.  396 ;  Jersey,  II.  190.] 

Cbe  2Uoman  HDuttotttcti ; 


2EIje  OHcaijct's  flJEtfe  runnmglg  catrij'ti  fit  a  2Trap,  00  far  f^usbano, 

tolja  solo  ijcr  for  Etn  Pounos,  antj  sent  \)tx  to  Virginny. 

To  an  Excellent  New  Tune  [called  Virginny]. 

NOt  far  from  hence,  there  dwelt  an  honest  man,  a  Weaver, 
He  had  a  wife,  she  was  witty  and  fair,  but  her  wit  it  did  deceive  her ; 
She  was  a  grain  too  light,  she  calls  him  Fool  and  Ninny  ; 
Which  made  the  Man  then  often  say,  "  I'll  go  unto  Virginny." 

Altho'  he  hard  did  work,  he  ne'er  could  live  in  quiet ; 

She  said  her  cloathing  was  too  base,  so  was  her  homely  diet ; 

Tho'  nothing  she  did  want,  as  he  could  buy  for  money, 

Which  made  tbe  Man  then  often  say,  "  Fll  go  unto  Virginny."  16 

She  lov'd  a  lusty  Lad,  and  vow'd  she'd  love  him  ever, 
At  last  her  Husband  found  a  trick  these  loving  mates  to  sever : 
"  Your  notes,"  quoth  he,  "  I'll  quickly  change,  that  now  so  sweetly  sing  ye ;  " 
Unto  a  Merchant  straight  he  went  that  sailed  to  Virginny  : 

He  coming  then  unto  the  ship,  "  Of  women  you  are  lacking, 

And  I  have  one  that  I  can  spare,  and  her  I  will  send  packing  : 

The  times  are  very  hard,  I'll  sell  my  wife  for  mon[e]y, 

She  is  good  merchandize,  you  know,  when  you  come  to  Virginny."  32 

"  If  she  be  young,  bring  her  on  board,  and  I  will  entertain  her; 

But  tell  to  me  the  lowest  price,  for  I  must  be  some  gainer." 
"  Ten  pound,"  he  answered,  "  [sure,  that's  low  !]  I  cannot  bait  one  penny  ; 

She  is  good  merchandize,  you  know,  when  you  come  to  Virginny." 

Then  he  came  home  unto  his  wife,  and  said  that  he  was  packing  ; 

This  joyful  news  reviv'd  her  mind,  and  set  her  heart  a  leaping  ; 

And  smiling  to  herself,  she  said,  "  Then  farewel,  Goodman  Ninny, 

My  Love  with  me  shall  merry  be,  when  you  are  at  Virginny."  48 

**  One  thing  I  do  desire  of  thee,  to  see  me,  my  dear,  take  shipping." 
"  Ay,  that  I  will,  my  love,"  said  she,  and  seem'd  to  fall  a  weeping  ; 
"  A  bottle  of  Strong-waters  good  I  will  bestow  upon  thee, 
For  fear  that  you  should  be  sea-sick  a  sailing  to  Virginny." 

*#*  One  of  the  blackest  of  many  evil  deeds  by  which  the  '  Great  Rebellion ' 
is  characterized,  and  not  denied  by  its  advanced  freethought  apologists  (who 
invariably  claim  lineal  descent  from  Ireton,  Pym,  and  Cromwell ;  considerably 
mixed,  according  to  their  own  account ;  little  credit  to  their  Puritan  women- 
kind)  was  the  transportation  of  vanquished  Cavaliers  and  their  families  to  "  the 
Plantations,"  in  Virginia  and  the  West  Indies.  It  might  be  worth  the  trouble, 
surely,  to  tell  the  story  of  this  cruel  and  sordid  villany,  since  it  is  too  much  the 
fashion  of  late  to  condone  the  faults  of  rebels,  of  iconoclasts  (Savanarola  et  Cie.) 
and  puritanic  zealots,  on  the  plea  that  they  strove  for  "  Liberty  of  Conscience," 
forsooth !  They  never  allowed  it  to  others  than  themselves.  Some  lingering 
remembrance  of  what  had  been  the  practice  in  his  youth  seems  to  possess  the 
mind  of  the  unquiet  husband,  who  desires  not  merely  to  get  rid  of  his  wife,  but 
to  gain  an  additional  bargain  by  selling  her  for  the  Virginia  market.  Whether, 
as  in  the  Belphcgor  legend,  the  lady  might  not  make  her  new  home  too  hot  to 
hold  her,  is  an  enquiry  not  needing  to  be  pursued  on  this  side  of  Styx. 

The  Woman  Outwitted.  191. 

Then  [when  they]  come  into  the  ship,  the  Captain  bid  them  welcome, 

He  led  them  into  his  cabin,  whereas  such  Guests  came  seldom. 

He  stepped  forth  unto  her  Husband,  and  paid  him  down  the  money, 

.    "Who  straight  took  boat  and  row'd  on  shore,  and  sent  her  unto  Virginny.    64 
But  when  she  saw  that  he  was  gone,  and  that  she  there  was  staid, 
She  bitterly  did  wail  and  weep,  and  said  she  was  betray'd ; 

"  Take  me,"  said  she,  "  [now  back]  with  you,  I'll  never  more  offend  thee." 
He  cry'd,  "  Farewel,  sweet  Wife,  adieu,  God  send  you  to  Virginny  !  " 
Then  presently  they  hoist  up  sail,  and  had  good  wind  and  weather  ; 
And  seven  long  weeks  they  were  at  sea,  before  that  they  came  thither  ; 
He  for  a  maiden  sold  her  there,  for  fifty  pounds  in  money, 
And  she  another  Husband  had,  when  she  came  to  Virginny.  80 

They  being  [happily]  parted  thus,  so  many  leagues  asunder, 
He  carries  mon[e]y  in  his  purse,  there's  none  to  keep  him  under, 
But  [here  he]  governs  all  at  home,  and  with  his  friends  lives  merry ; 
Now  many  one  doth  title  him,  a  Merchant  of  Virginny. 

London  :  Printed  by  and  for  W.  0.,  and  are  to  be  sold  by  0.  Bates,  in  Pye-Corner. 
[Black-letter.  Woodcuts,  1st,  a  ship,  vi.  380  ;  2nd,  on  p.  103.  Date,  circa  1685.] 

Cge  £>coltmtg  Sffilife. 

"  "ITTHat  hap  had  I  to  marry  a  Shrow  ! 
VV       For  she  hath  given  me  many  a  blow, 
And  how  to  please  her,  alack  !  I  do  not  know. 

"  From  morn  to  even  her  tongue  ne'er  lies  ; 

Sometimes  she  brawls,  sometimes  she  cries  ; 

Yet  I  can  scarce  keep  her  talents  from  mine  eyes.  [  =  talons. 

"  If  I  go  abroad,  and  late  come  in, 

'  Sir  Knave,'  saith  she,  '  where  have  you  been  ?  ' 

And  do  I  well  or  ill,  she  claps  me  on  the  skin." 

— Pummelia,  1609. 


HEBE  must  have  been  a  terrific  prevalence  of  Scolding  Wives 
in  the  reign  of  good  King  Charles  II.,  if  we  are  to  judge  by  the 
large  number  of  ballads  devoted  to  the  subject  Men  turned  to  the 
taverns  in  search  of  consolation,  if  not  of  peace  and  quietness. 
In  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  says  Dervaux,  "  If  a  husband  absent  himself 
from  home,  and  becomes  too  fond  of  drinking  with  his  friends,  it  is 
because  the  wife  had  left  him  no  comfort  and  peace  when  he  arrived 
there.  It  is  perfect  nonsense  to  say,  '  she  scolds  him  because  he 
drinks !  '  She  scolded  first.  She  drove  him  to  liquor  as  a  refuge 
from  her  knagging  and  incessant  bad  temper."  Why  was  she  so 
unmannerly  and  '  curst '  (it  is  a  Shakespearian  phrase  :  see  '  Taming 
of  a  Shrew  ').  Surely,  because  peevish  puritanism  had  soured  any 
milk  of  human  kindness  in  her.  Her  innate  perversity  had  been 
intensified  by  external  formalism  ;  by  theological  spitefulness,  mis- 
called religion.  Two  "Groups  of  Good-Eellows,"  tavern  roysters 
and  improvident  spendthrifts,  have  been  given  in  vol.  vi.  Now  we 
come  to  the  other  side  of  the  shield,  and  display  the  Shrews. 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  407  ;  Huth,  II.  77  ;  Douce,  II.  189  ;  Jersey,  I.  109.] 

%\>t  £>colt)tng  WLift. 

To    A   PLEASANT    New    TuNE. 

THere  was  [a]  young-man  for  lucre  of  gain, 
He  lov'd  a  Widow  well ; 
His  friends  did  tell  him,  often  and  plain, 
In  scolding  she  did  excel. 
"  Why  that  is  no  matter  !  "  quoth  he, 
"  So  I  may  have  her  bags  of  gold  ; 
Let  her  not  spare  to  brawl  and  scold, 

For  I'll  be  as  merry  as  merry  may  be."  8 

This  Woodcock  wedded  his  heart's  desire, 

A  Widow  with  Money  enough  ; 
They  was  not  so  soon  out  of  the  Quire 

E'er  she  begun  to  snuff:  [=fume. 

"  Methink  you  be  very  fine  ! 

You  can  no  quicker  get  you  hence, 
Without  such  large  and  great  expence, 

Of  sugared  Sops  and  music  to  dine  !  "  16 

They  was  not  all  at  supper  set, 

Or  at  the  board  sate  down, 
E'er  she  began  to  brawl  and  scold, 

And  call'd  him  a  peaking  Clown: 
That  nothing  he  could  doe, 

That  was  pleasing  in  her  sight  ; 
But  still  she  scolded  day  and  night, 

Which  made  this  merry  man's  heart  full  of  woe.  24 

If  lie  had  provided  any  good  cheer 

For  him  and  her  alone, 
Then  she  wou'd  'a  said,  with  [a  saucy  jeer], 

"  You  might  'a  done  this  of  your  own  !  " 
If  sparingly  he  will  be, 

Then  she  would  have  said  with  words  more  hot, 
"  I  will  not  be  pinch'd  of  what  I  brought, 

But  of  mine  own  I  will  be  free." 
That  nothing  he  could  doe, 

That  10 as  pleasing  in  h\_er~]  sight, 
But  still  she  scolded  day  and  night, 

Which  made  this  merry  mans  heart  full  of  woe.  36 

[She  greeted  him  there  with  shrewish  speech, 

She  wearied  him  night  and  day ;]  {text,  defective. 

"  0  God!  "  in  his  prayer,  he  did  beseech, 
To  take  his  life  away. 

The  Scolding  Wife  (treated  as  a  Lunatic).  193 

A  hundred  times  [t]he  [young  man]  curst 

The  priest,  the  clerk,  the  sexton  too, 
And  tongue  that  did  the  Widow  wooe, 

And  legs  that  brought  him  [to  her]  first.  44 

It  fell  out  upon  a  day 

That  with  his  friends  he  did  devise 
To  brake  her  of  her  scolding  guise, 

And  what  they  did  [I]  shall  bewray  :  ['they... weary.' 

They  got  and  ty'd  her  arms, 

She  could  not  them  undoe  ; 
And  many  other  pretty  charms 

They  used  her  unto.  52 

Her  petticoat  was  rent  and  torn, 

Upon  her  back  they  did  put  [it]  on  ; 
They  tore  her  smock-sleeves  all  along, 

As  if  a  Bedlam?  she  had  been  born  ; 
Her  hair  about  her  head  they  shook, 

All  with  a  bramble  bush  ; 
They  [w]ring  her  arms  in  every  crook, 

Till  out  the  blood  did  gush.  60 

And  with  an  iron  chain 

Fast  by  the  leg  he  did  her  tye, 
There  within  an  old  dark  house  [close]  by : 

So  soon  he  went  away  again, 
And  with  a  countenance  so  sad, 

He  did  his  neighbours  call : 
Quoth  he,  "  My  Wife,  [dear  Friends,]  is  mad, 

She  doth  so  rave  and  brawl : 
Help,  Neighbours,  all  therefore, 

To  see  if  that  you  can  reclaim 
My  Wife  into  her  wits  again, 

For  she  is  troubled  ivondrous  sore.'''  72 

Printed  for  P.  Broohsby,  at  the  Golden  Ball,  in  Pye-corner. 

[In  Black-letter,  with  four  woodcuts.     1st,  the  long-haired  youth,  p.  203  right ; 

2nd,  the  girl  with  peacock,  and  4th,  lady  with  fan,  p.  120,  left ;  3rd,  five  men 

around  a  table  whereon  swarm  toads  and  snakes.     Date  1672-169-1.] 

%*  The  friends  of  the  young  man  warned  him  against  the  widow.     There 

had  been  long-earlier  caveats:  — "It  is  better  to  dwell  in  the  wilderness,  than 

with  a  contentious  and  an  angry  woman"  {Proverbs  xxi.  19).     "  It  is  better  to 

dwell  in  the  corner  of  the  house-top,  than  with  a  brawling  woman  and  in  a  wide 

house  "  (Ibid.  xxv.  24).     The  broadside  printers  made  havoc  of  the  metre,  and 

broke  up  the  stanzas  into  disorder,  by  making  them  eight-lined,  instead  of  twelve. 

We  risk  a  few  bracketted  insertions,  but  at  best  the  ballad  is   corrupt  and 

mutilated,  lacking  a  fitting  end.     The  text  has  '  words  more  hot '  (in  line  27 : 

seemingly  misread,  from  line  30)  ;  and  omits  the  lines  rhyming  with  '  beseech ' 

and  '  life  alwayS     Instead  of  '  they  shall  be  weary,1  we  read  '  I  shall  bewray.1 

VOL.    VII.  o 



C6e  ^coining  ©EJtfe's  Oin&icatton. 

"  Under  your  patience,  gentle  Emperess, 
'Tis  thought  you  have  a  goodly  gift  in  Homing. 
Jove  shield  your  Husband  from  his  hounds  to-day, 
'Tis  pity  they  should  take  him  for  a  Stag." 

— Titus  Andronicus,  Act  ii.  3. 

HE  TUNE  of  The  Cuckold's  Complaint,  assigned  to  the  following 
ballad  (which  is  an  Answer  to  it),  resembled  the  tune  of  \_Aye~] 
Marry  and  thank  you  too  !  (see  pp.  116,  118)  or  was  identical  with  it. 

In  so  many  ballads  were  Cuckolds  uttering  '  Complaints '  of 
feminine  tyranny  and  unfaithfulness,  like  poor  Antbony  in  the 
Westminster  Drollery  of  1671,  that  we  fail  to  indicate  with  certainty 
tbe  particular  antecedent  to  the  ensuing  "  Vindication. " 

The  antecedent  was  certainly  not  "  The  Cuckold's  Lamentation 
of  a  Bad  Wife  "  (Roxb.  Coll.,  II.  89,  reprinted  in  Roxb.  Ballads, 
iii.  635),  beginning,  "  Young  Batchelors  all,  come  hear  this  new 
song!"  for  it  is  in  eight-line  stanzas,  with  a  burden  of,  A  man 
needs  no  more  sorroiv  to  shorten  his  life,  When  he  has  such  hard  fortune 
to  have  a  lad  wife.  Its  tunes  were,  The  Country  Farmer  (see  p.  152), 
and  Why  are  my  eyes  still  flowing  ?    (Bagford  Ballads,  p.  89.) 

The  concluding  threat  of  the  Scold  against  her  husband,  "  He 
shall  dig  Gravel  next  Horn-Fair,"  deserves  elaborate  comment,  for 
such  allusions  are  frequent  in  old  literature,  and  the  woodcut 
mentioned  on  our  p.  19,  and  given  on  p.  196,  seems  to  represent  two 
men  going  on  this  particular  employment,  with  pickaxe  and  pail. 
A  unique  exemplar  remains  of  a  Kentish  ballad,  beginning,  "  At 
Charlton  there  was  a  Fair,"  and  entitled,  "  Hey  for  Horn-Fair  ;  or, 
Room  for  Cuckolds,  here  comes  a  company."  It  was  licensed  by 
Roger  L'Estrange,  before  August,  1685,  and  printed  forC.  Dennison, 
at  the  Stationers'  Arms  within  Aldgate.  After  four  columns  of 
twelve-line  stanzas,  a  letter  follows,  signed  "  Thomas  Can't-be-Quiet, 
beadle."  The  jest  was  continued  so  late  as  1830.  In  one  "  New 
Summons  to  Horn  Fair:  to  appear  at  Cuckold's  Point  on  the  18th 
of  October,  and  from  thence  to  march  to  the  Gravel  Pits  to  dig  gravel, 
to  make  a  path  for  your  wives  to  walk  on  to  Horn-Fair,'  the  signature 
is  "John  Doo-little,  Beadle."  This  was  printed  by  If.  H\_ills~\, 
Blackfriars,  circa  1720,  and  contains  a  song  of  invitation,  beginning, 
"  Ye  Cuckolds  that  dwell  in  the  City,  and  likewise  the  suburbs, 
prepare!"  To  the  tune  of  The  City  Ramble  (see  vol.  vi.  p.  513). 
"  A  New  Summons  to  the  Hen-peckt  Frigat,"  printed  for  Mary 
Edwards,  in  Fleet  Street,  has  a  song  to  the  same  tune,  beginning, 
"  You  Sots  that  are  joined  to  a  woman."  Another  broadside  has 
verses  commencing,  "  Advance,  ye  loving  brethren  of  the  Horned 
Train/"     R.   Powell's    "General   Summons  to   Horn-Fair,"  this 

The  Scolding  Wife's  Vindication.  195 

for  Men,  appears  to  have  been  issued  in  1720,  with  a  double 
processional  woodcut.  A  Parson  leads  the  way,  a  Skiminington 
couple  on  horseback  follows,  the  wife  in  front,  the  husband  behind, 
back  to  back,  he  looking  to  the  horse's  tail.  (See  woodcut  on  p.  182.) 
A  similar  sheet  was  sent  out  so  late  as  1830  by  T.  Batchelor, 
115,  Long  Alley,  Moor-fields,  London,  with  verses  beginning  : 

You  horned  fumbling  Cuckolds,  in  city,  court,  or  town, 

You're  summon'd  here,  and  must  appear,  your  tine  to  render  down  ; 

"With  pickaxe,  spade  and  shovel,  and  basket,  you  must  go, 

To  join  each  horned  brother,  Cuckolds  all  a  row,  etc.     (12  stanzas.) 

There  was  also,  for  the  women,  "  A  New  Summons  to  the  Wag- 
Tail  Jades,"  with  verses,  "  Come  all  you  merry  jades,  who  love  to 
play  the  game,"  and  woodcuts  in  four  compartments,  one  of  a 
banquet,  women  only,  ladle  in  hand  to  baste  their  husbands  ;  the  two 
lower  pictures  being  a  procession.     (Compare  p.  188.) 

Horn-Fair  was  held  at  Charlton  in  Kent  (Greenwich,  Woolwich, 
and  Blackheath  in  its  neighbourhood  furnishing  a  contingent  of 
roystering  matrons  and  swaggering  blades),  about  eight  miles  from 
Town;  and  on  S.  Luke's  Day,  the  18th  October,  year  by  year. 
St.  Luke's  festival  had  been  chosen  in  recognition  of  his  evangelistic 
sign  of  the  Ox,  with  horns.  Citations  were  circulated  previously, 
after  the  manner  of  the  "  Drucken  Summonses  for  the  New  Year  " 
that  used  to  be  sold  in  Auld  Eeekie  forty  years  ago,  making  night 
hideous.  Genuine  names  were  filled  in,  by  those  gifted  mortals  (a 
small  minority)  who  had  mastered  the  alphabet  and  could  do  pot- 
hooks and  hangers.  Then  the  fun  commenced,  in  good  humour 
and  glee.  The  populace  met  at  Cuckold's  Point,  otherwise  Cuckold's 
Haven,  near  Deptford,  and  went  in  procession  through  Greenwich 
to  Charlton  (as  Grose  mentions),  "  with  horns  of  different  kinds 
upon  their  heads  ;  and  at  the  Fair  there  are  sold  rams-horns,  and 
every  kind  of  toy  made  of  horn  :  even  the  ginger-bread  figures 
have  horns ! "  There  was  not  only  a  three-fold  perambulation 
around  Charlton  Church,  but  a  sermon  was  preached  on  the  occasion. 
The  burlesque  procession  has  been  discontinued  since  1768  (Lysons, 
Environs,  iv.  325).  See  Douce  Collection,  broadsides,  ii.  41,  etc.,  and 
John  Brand's  account  of  Nuptial  Usages,  Cuckoldom,  the  Horn,  also 
the  Skimmington  (Pop.  Antiq.  of  Great  Britain,  ii.  122-136,  1870). 

The  enforced  humiliation  of  a  cornuted  husband,  compelled  to 
carry  a  spade  and  pail  to  dig  gravel,  was  probably  at  the  notorious 
spot'  below  Botherhithe  alias  Bedriff,  where  a  cluster  of  rams'- 
horns  adorned  a  wooden  post,  discernible  from  the  river.  Hentzner, 
in  his  Travels  in  England,  1598,  refers  to  it,  thus  : — 

"Upon  taking  the  air  down  the  river  (from  London),  on  the  left  hand  lies 
Eatcliffe,  a  considerable  suburb.  On  the  opposite  shore  is  fixed  a  long  pole  with 
rams-horns  upon  it,  the  intention  of  which  was  vulgarly  said  to  be  a  reflection 
upon  wilful  and  contented  cuckolds." 


Horn-Fair,  held  at  Charlton  in  Kent. 

See  also  F.  M.  Misson's  account  of  a  procession  that  he  had  sometimes  met  in 
the  streets  of  London ;  a  woman  carrying  a  figure  of  straw,  representing  a  man 
crowned  with  very  ample  horns,  preceded  by  a  drum,  and  followed  by  a  mob,"  etc. 
(Travels  over  England,  translated  by  Ozell,  p.  258,  1719.)  George  Hoefnagel's 
View  of  Seville,  1593,  is  likewise  mentioned  by  Dr.  Zachary  Gray  in  his  Notes  to 
Hudibraa  :  compare  p.  184.  The  woodcut  of  a  Shrew  beating  her  Cuckold,  who 
holds  up  a  Hornbook  (for  p.  161),  is  given  in  the  Contents,  p.  xiii*. 

Horn-Fair  lasted  three  days.  William  Hone  tells  of  its  celebration  in  1825, 
"  though  the  weather  was  unfavourable  to  the  customary  humours,  most  of  the 
visitors  wore  masks ;  several  were  disguised  in  woman's  clothes  [as  had  been 
William  Fuller,  and  had  them  spoilt  by  dirty  water,  so  that  he  had  to  pay  two 
guineas  in  atonement  to  the  lender,  see  the  Life  of  IV.  Fuller,  1703],  and  some 
assumed  whimsical  characters.  The  spacious  and  celebrated  Crown  and  Anchor 
booth  was  the  principal  scene  of  tbeir  amusements.  The  fair  is  now  held  in  a 
private  field ;  formerly  it  was  on  the  green  opposite  the  church,  and  facing  the 
mansion  of  Sir  Thomas  Wilson.  The  late  Lady  Wilson  was  a  great  admirer  and 
patroness  of  the  fair ;  the  old  lady  was  accustomed  to  come  down  with  her 
attendants  every  morning  during  tbe  fair,  'and  in  long  order  go,'  from  the  steps 
of  her  ancient  hall,  to  without  the  gates  of  her  court-yard,  when  the  bands  of  the 
different  shows  bailed  her  appearance,  as  a  signal  to  strike  up  their  melody  of 
discords.  Richardson  always  pitched  bis  great  booth  in  front  of  the  house. 
Latterly,  however,  the  fair  has  diminished;  Richardson  was  not  there  in  1825, 
nor  were  there  any  shows  of  consequence.  '  Horns  !  horns  ! '  were  the  customary 
and  chief  cry,  and  the  most  conspicuous  source  of  frolic  ;  they  were  in  the  hat 
and  bonnet  of  almost  every  person  in  the  rout." — Every- bay  Book,  1825. 

Of  course,  the  jests  about  Horning  are  multitudinous  and  indecorous.  The 
protrusion  of  the  fore-finger  and  little  finger  ("making  horns"),  while  the  fingers 
betwixt  them  were  crooked-down,  was  a  well-understood  sign  of  calling  a  person 
a  Cuckold.  Sometimes  two  contiguous  fingers,  extended  like  the  letter  V,  was 
deemed  sufficient.  Witness  the  gesture  of  Hogarth's  Tom  Idle,  when  sailing  past 
Cuckold's  Point  on  the  Thames,  and  forewarned  of  the  gibbets  garnishing  the 
hanks,  trees  that  bore  mellow  fruit  of  pirates  hanging  in  chains. 

"  He  shall  dig  Gravel  next  Horn-Fair." — p.  197. 
[These  men  belong  to  pp.  19,  194  ;  the  girl  goes  with  pp.  117,  200,  232.] 



[Roxb.  Coll.,  11.410;  Pepys,IV.137  ;  Douce,  1. 321;  Euing,  321 ;  Jersey,  I.  284.] 

Cfje  ^colDing  life's  Omtiicatton ; 

&n  gnsfoet  to  tfje  ©uriblo's  (Complaint.    Wfymin  sfje  sfjofos  fojjat 
just  Eeasans  sfje  Jjao  to  txzxcm  Stberitg  oner  f)er  insufficient 

To  the  Tune  of,  The  Cuckold's  Complaint.     [See  p.  194.] 
Licensed  according  to  Order. 
Have  been  abus'd  of  late,  by  some  of  the  Poet's  Crew, 
Who  says,  I  broke  my  Husband's  pate,  but  this  I  did  never  do. 

'Tis  true  I  his  ears  did  cuff,  and  gave  him  a  kick  or  two  ; 
For  this  1  had  just  Cause  enough,  because  he  would  nothing  do. 

He's  lain  like  a  log  of  wood,  in  bed,  for  a  year  or  two, 
And  wont  afford  me  any  good,  he  nothing  at  all  would  do. 

I  am  in  my  blooming  prime,  dear  Neighbours,  I  tell  you  true, 

I  am  lo[ajth  to  lose  my  Teeming  time,  yet  nothing  at  all  he'll  do.        ['  lost.' 

He  says  that  I  keep  a  Friend,  but  what  if  I  did  keep  two  ? 
There's  no  one  can  me  discommend,  for  nothing  \_at  all  he  will  do~\. 

I  make  it  full  well  appear,  to  be  both  just  and  true, 

I  kept  my  Maiden-head  two  year,  for  nothing  at  all  he'd  do. 

Sometimes  he'd  give  me  a  Kiss,  and  I  wou'd  return  him  two ; 
But  when  he  comes  to  farther  bliss,  he  nothing  at  all  wou'd  do. 

I  am  a  young  Buxome  Dame,  and  fain  would  my  joys  renew, 

But  my  poor  Cuckold  is  to  blame,  he  nothing  [at  all  will  do],  32 

He  says  I  have  him  abus'd,  but  what  if  this  same  be  true  ? 
For  this  I  may  be  well  excus'd,  since  nothing  [at  all  he  will  d>,]. 

Sure  never  was  Wife  so  fool'd,  as  I,  for  a  year  or  two  ; 

I  did  for  him  whate'er  1  could,  yet  nothing  [at  all  he  would  do]. 

I  feasted  him  e'ery  day  with  Lamb-stones,  and  Cock-broths  too, 
Yet  all  this  cost  was  thrown  away,  he  nothing  [at  all  wou'd  do]. 

I  feed  him  with  jelly  of  Chicks,  and  curious  Egg-caudles  too, 

I'se"good  feed  him  with  faggot-sticks,  for  nothing  [at  all  he  will  do].  48 

He  lyes  like  a  lump  of  clay,  such  Husbands  there  is  but  few, 

'T would  make  a  woman  run  astray,  when  nothing  [at  all  he  will  do]. 

Now,  now  let  him  take  his  ease,  and  sleep  while  the  skye  looks  blue,  [  =  until. 
I  have  a  Friend  my  mind  to  please,  since  nothing  [at  all  he  will  do]. 

Long,  long,  have  I  liv'd  at  strife,  I  kick'd,  and  I  cuff'd  him  too, 
He's  like  to  live  no  better  life,  since  nothing  at  all  he'll  do. 

I  solemnly  do  declare,  believe  me,  this  is  true  ! 

He  shall  dig  Gravel  next  Horn-Fair,  and  that  he  is  like  to  do.  64 

Printed  for  P.  Brooksby,  J.  Beacon,  J.  Blare,  J.  Back. 

[In  Black-letter.     Four  woodcuts  :   1st,  and  2nd,  are  on  p.  204  ;  the  3rd  is  in 
vol.  iv.  p.  372  ;  4th,  the  little  man,  p.  206,  reversed.     Date,  circa  1689.] 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  382  ;  Jersey,  I.  382.] 

Ct)e  51?eto  dSerman  doctor; 


3n  Infallible  cure  for  a  *s>colDhtg  GSJife :  pcrfonncb  bp 
tljis  mo0t  ©rccllnu  £)pct*ator,  t§e  like  toag  tuber 
{utoton  in  all  ages* 

To  the  Tune  of,  Here  I  love,  there  Hove;  or,  The  \_Tico~]  English 
Travellers.     [See  Note,  p.  199  ;  Ballad  oti  p.  200.] 

Licensed  according  to  Order. 

YOu  men  that  are  married,  I  pray  now  attend, 
Good  tydings  I  bring  you  this  day  as  a  friend  ; 
It  will  be  of  use  to  all  young  Men  and  old, 
AVhoever  are  troubl'd  with  Women  that  scold. 

A  Doctor  of  late,  from  the  Emperor's  Court, 

A  person  of  dextrous  skill  by  report, 

Hath  taken  a  Chamber  in  London  of  late, 

And  cures  scolding  Wives  at  a  wonderful  rate.  8 

This  Doctor  has  travell'd  all  Poland  and  Spain, 
And  now  to  Great  Britain  he  crossed  the  main  ; 
To  one  land  and  nation  he'll  not  be  confin'd, 
But  travels  the  World  for  the  good  of  mankind. 

That  Man  that  is  plagu'd  with  a  cross  scolding  Wife, 

Whose  railing  doth  make  him  quite  weary  of  life  ; 

Pray  what  would  he  give  for  an  absolute  cure, 

Before  such  a  terrible  life  he'd  endure  ?  16 

'Tie  like  ev'ry  morning  when  day-light  appears, 
She  lings  him  a  thundiing  Peal  in  his  ears  ; 
And  makes  him  be  glad  to  rouze  out  of  the  bed, 
And  all  by  the  violent  noise  of  her  head. 

Sometimes  a  good  Husband  may  meet  with  a  Friend, 

And  happen  a  penny  or  two  pence  to  spend  ; 

Then  in  comes  the  Wife,  who  do's  thunder  and  bawl, 

And  with  the  quart-flaggon  his  noddle  doth  maul.  24 

Her  Tongue  is  more  keen  than  a  two-edged  sword, 
Nay  louder  than  thunder  she  peals  will  afford  ; 
Instead  of  fond  pleasures,  kind  love  and  delight, 
She  is  like  a  fierce  Tygre,  both  morning  and  night. 

It  is  an  unspeakable  torment  I  know, 

You  cannot  imagine  what  they  undergo, 

Who  with  such  cross  Women  their  lives  now  do  lead ; 

But  bring  them  away  to  the  Doctor  with  speed.  32 

The  New  German  Doctor :  his  Care.  199 

Nay,  let  them  be  never  so  aged  or  young, 
This  Doctor  he  takes  out  the  Sting  of  the  Tongue ; 
Which  is  the  main  cause  of  that  violent  noise, 
And  likewise  all  modest  behaviour  destroys. 

A  Balsom  he  has  of  a  moderate  price, 

Which  takes  off  the  frowns  of  the  Face  in  a  trice, 

And  makes  her  as  mild  as  the  innocent  Dove, 

And  instead  of  railing,  she's  all  over  Love.  40 

He  hath  been  above  seven  weeks  in  the  Town, 
And  yet  of  young  Scolds  who  was  given  to  frown, 
He  has  cur'd  above  seven  hundred  indeed  ; 
And  some  full  as  bad  as  the  Billingsgate-Breed. 

There's  one  I  will  mention,  liv'd  near  Tower-Hill, 

Who  would  be  both  fighting  and  quarelling  still ; 

From  night  to  next  morning,  from  morning  to  noon, 

Her  pipes  I  must  tell  you  was  always  in  tune.  48 

Her  Husband  he  heard  of  this  Doctor  of  f;ime, 
Without  longer  tarry,  faith,  thither  he  came, 
With  she  that  was  call'd  The  invincible  Shrow, 
Fast  bound  in  a  basket,  for  she  would  not  go. 

This  Doctor  he  cur'd  her  in  less  than  a  week, 

And  made  her  as  modest,  as  mild,  and  as  meek, 

As  any  sweet  Lady  this  day  in  the  land, 

And  so  he  do's  all,  that  he  e'er  takes  in  hand.  56 

We  hear  of  some  Quacks  are  for  curing  of  claps, 
And  some  other  common  diseases,  perhaps ; 
But  when  did  you  hear  on  our  vast  British  shore 
Of  one  that  could  cure  this  distemper  before? 

Whoever  is  troubl'd  this  day  with  a  Scold, 

Altho'  she  be  youthful,  or  fourscore  years  old, 

'Tis  all  one  to  him,  if  the  Cure  he  don't  do, 

He'll  not  have  so  much  as  one  penny  of  you.  64 

Now  rather  than  any  that  pain  shall  endure, 

The  Poor  he  for  little  or  nothing  will  cure  ; 

All  day  at  his  chamber  he  is  to  be  found, 

Next  door  to  the  EeVs-foot  in  Sallenger's-Round.  [SeeNote,P.  iro. 

[Black-letter.  Three  woodcuts.  1st,  the  young  squire  with  riding-whip,  p.  133  ; 
2nd  and  3rd,  on  p.  206.  Date,  after  the  Coronation  of  James  II.,  April,  1685.] 
***  Note  on  Tunes.—"  Unconstant  "William  "  (on  p.  200)  gives  name  to  our 
first  tune  from  its  burden  :  For  here  I  love,  there  I  love,  thus  I  love  now,  For  Love 
has  entangled  me  I  know  not  how  !  It  begins  by  declaring, ' '  Constancy  I  am  sure  is 
not  my  fate."  The  second  tune-name  given  is,  The  Two  English  Travellers 
(reprinted  in  vol.  v.  p.  543),  which  determines  the  date  of  issue. 


[Pepys  Collection,  V.  155  ;  Jersey,  I.  29 ;  C.  22.  e.  2.  fol.  220.] 

([inconstant  William; 

©r,  3Tf)£  JDamosrt's  Bcsolution  to  ILobc  EntiiffetentltJ  all  fflzn  alike, 
from  tyx  !£jpErt'ence  of  fjis  Eislorjaltrjf. 

To  an  Excellent  New  Tune  [Here  Hove,  there  I  love]. 

(lOnstancy  I  am  sure  is  not  my  Fate,  for  him  I  lov'd  yesterday  to-day  I  hate  : 
J    For  here  I  love,  there  I  love,  thus  I  love  now  ; 

For  love  has  intangl  'd  me  I  know  not  how.  [tie,  passim. 

Of  all  the  Young-men  that  ever  I  did  see,  I  lov'd  William  best,  till  he  prov'd 

false  to  me  :   For  here  I  love,  there  I  love,  etc. 
I  loved  him  well,  but  his  love  it  was  small,  now  for  the  future  I  vow  to  love  all. 
For  now  I  love  Richard,  Charles,  Thomas,  and  John  ;  I  likewise  love  Robert  that 

pretty  young  Man. 
Tho'  once  I  was  constant,  yet  now  I  am  free,  and  I  am  resolv'd  ever  so  for  to  be. 

Might  I  have  a  Miser  with  thousands,  and  more,  I'd  slight  him,  altho'  he  my 

charms  would  adore  :  For  here  I  love,  etc. 
I  never  will  value  the  name  of  a  Bride,  to  one  huffing  Gallant  I'll  never  be  ty'd. 

I  now  can  be  coach'd  to  a  Ball  or  a  Play,  and  with  a  young  Spark,  be  conducted 

With  twenty  or  more  I  will  reap  my  Delight ;  It  is  not  one  Slrephon  shall  ruin 

me  quite. 
My  heart  now  will  never  be  subject  to  break,  like  other  young  Maids  whom  their 

Gallants  forsake. 
To  Lawyers,  nay  Schollars,  and  Merchants  also,  my  equal  affection  and  kindness 

I  show. 
I'll  never  be  subject  to  any  one's  frown,  while  I  am  belov'd  by  the  best  in  the  Town. 

When  leaving  the  City  I  rang'd  to  the  Court,  and  there  with  young  Gallants  in 

Pleasure  I  sport. 
I  could  have  been  Loyal  to  one  and  no  more,  had  I  not  been  slighted  by  William 

I  find  by  Experience,  young  Men  are  unjust,  therefore  I  will  now  be  as  false  as 

the  rest. 
If  Batchelors  they,  through  an  evil  design,  let  their  Fancy  waver,  pray  why  may 

not  mine  ? 
For  here  I  love,  there  I  love,  thus  I  love  now, 
Fur  Love  has  intangVd  me  I  know  not  how. 


Printed  for  C.  Bates  at  the  White-Hart  in  West- Smith  field. 

[Black-letter.  Three  cuts.    1st  and  2nd,  p.  122  ;  3rd,  p.  203  r.    Date,  circu  1685.] 

Constancy  was  the  forte  or  fate  of  few,  after  the  Restoration,  we  may  admit. 
"  An  Answer  to  Unconstant  William,"  and  to  the  same  tune,  begins  thus, 

I  am  a  brisk  Batchelour,  airy  and  young, 
Who  courts  the  young  Maids  with  a  flattering  tongue ; 
1  kiss  and  I  squeeze  them  agen  and  agen, 
nAnd  vote  I  will  Marry,  but  I  know  not  when.  [See  p.  231. 

With  a  woodcut  of  the  girl  listening  to  birds  in  the  air  (p.  196).  "Kind 
William  "  (p.  201)  has  the  cut  on  p.  208  and  scroll  ornament,  p.  218.  Printed 
at  back  of  it,  for  J.  Millet,  is  '  England's  Tribute  of  Tears  on  the  Death  of  the  Duke 
of  Gkafton,  9th  Oct.,  1G90:  '  =  "  Unwelcome  Tydings  overspread  the  land."] 


[Pepys  Collection,  IN.  179  ;  Douce,  I.  107»o.  ;  Huth,  I.  91  ;  C.  22.  e.  2.  46v.] 

IRtnD  William,  or,  Constant  Betty. 

Let  Maids  beware,  and  shun  the  snare,  I  say  be  rul'd  by  me  ; 
Though  you['re]  embrace[d],  be  perfect  Chaste,  from  stains  of  Infamy. 

To  the  Tune  of,  The  Doubting  Virgin.     [See  vol.  iv.  pp.  344,  349.] 

COnstant  Betty,  that  sweet  Creature,  she  was  William's  heart's  delight ; 
In  the  shades  he  chanc'd  to  meet  her,  when  fair  Phoebus  shined  bright  : 
In  conclusion  his  delusion  was  to  bring  her  to  his  Bow, 

"  Let's  not  dally,  '  Shall  I,  shall  I.'  "     But  she  answer' d,  "  No,  no,  no  !  " 
Then  his  Betty  he  embraced,  hoping  for  to  win  the  Field, 
She  with  modesty  was  graced,  and  resolved  not  to  yield  : 
She  denyed,  he  replyed,  "  Do  no[t]  seek  my  Overthrow  ;  " 

"  Let's  not  dally,  '  Shall  I,  shall  L.'     But  she  answer' d,  "  No,  no,  no." 

"  Thou  hast  set  mine  heart  on  fire,  sweetest  Creature  be  not  coy  ; 
Grant  me  what  I  do  desire,  thou  shalt  be  my  only  joy." 
Thus  he  woo'd  her  to  delude  her,  and  to  bring  her  to  his  Bow, 

"  Let's  not  dally,  '  Shall  I,  shall  L.'  "     But  she  answer 'd,  "  No,  no,  no." 

"  Love  thou  art  my  only  treasure  !  "     Then  he  took  her  by  the  hand  ; 
"  Let  me  now  enjoy  the  pleasure,  I  will  be  at  thy  command. 
Don't  abuse  me,  nor  refuse  me,  lest  it  prove  my  overthrow; 

Let's  not  dally,  '  Shall  L,  shall  L !'  "     But  she  [answer  d,  "  No,  no,  no."] 
"  Now  admit  me,  my  sweet  Betty,  to  salute  and  lay  thee  down, 
None  alive  I  think  more  pritty,  I  will  thee  with  pleasure  Crown  : 
Don't  deny  me,  do  but  try  me,  from  those  charms  such  pleasures  flow, 

Let's  not  dally,  '  Shall  I,  shall  I.'  "     But  she  [answer'd,  "  No,  no,  no."] 

"  Thy  obliging  eye  hath  won  me  ;  dearest,  I  am  not  in  jest, 
"Why  should'st  thou  be  coy  and  shun  me  ?  i  am  certainly  possest 
"With  thy  Beauty,  for  my  duty  is  to  bring  thee  to  my  Bow. 

Let's  not  dally,  '  Shall  I,  shall  I.'  "     But  she  [answer'd,  "No,  no,  no."] 
"  Dearest  Betty,  sit  down  by  me,  let  us  lovingly  agree. 
Sweetest  Creature,  don't  deny  me,  Cupid's  dart  hath  wounded  me  : 
Then  come  near  me,  Love,  and  chear  me,  for  my  heart  is  sinking  low, 

Let's  not  dally,  '  Shall  L,  shall  L. '  "     But  she  [answer'd,  "  No,  no,  no."] 

BETTY'S  Answer  to   WLLLIAM'S  Request. 
"  William,  you  are  much  mistaken,  you  shall  never  me  ensnare, 
In  your  Net  l'l  not  be  taken,  therefore  now  your  Suit  forbear : 
I'll  deny  it,  and  defie  it,  for  I  vow  it  shan't  be  so  ; 

While  1  marry,  L  will  tarry,  and  ivill  answer,  '  No,  no,  no.'       [while  =  unti\. 

"  I  from  Love  will  be  excluded,  e'er  I'll  hear  an  idle  Tale, 
I  will  never  be  deluded,  no,  nor  shall  you  e'er  prevail 
To  embrace  me,  and  disgrace  me,  thus  to  sink  my  heart  full  low  : 
While  L  marry,  I  will  tarry,  and  will  [answer,  '  No,  no,  no  !  '  "] 


"  Now  my  loving  constant  Betty,  I  will  ever  thee  adore, 
For  thy  Answer  has  been  witty,  I  will  never  tempt  thee  more  ;  # 

"When  I  try'd  thee,  thou  deny'd  me,  all  thy  answer  still  was  '  No,' 
We'll  not  tarry,  but  will  Marry  :  then  it  must  and  shall  be  so." 

Jft'mS.  [Probably  by  Tobias  Bowne. 

Muted  for  /.  Beacon,  Gilt-spur-street.     [In  Black-letter.    See  Note,  p.  200.] 


[Douce  Collection,  II.  210  verso;  Jersey,  II.  82;  C.  22.  c.  2.  fol.  209.] 

Cfte  cLOounneD  Letter's  Lamentation  to  Silvia. 

To  an  Excellent  Xew  Tune,  sung  at  Court.     This  maybe  Printed,  R.P. 

YOu  I  love  (by  Jove)  I  do,  more  than  all  things  here  below,      [Compare  p.  110. 
With  a  passion  full  as  great  as  e'er  Creature  fancied  yet ; 
Silvia,  since  my  Heaven  thou  art,  ease  and  cure  my  wounded  heart. 

Bid  the  Miser  leave  his  Ore  ;  bid  the  wretched  sigh  no  more  ; 
Bid  the  Old  be  young  agen  ;  bid  the  Maids  ne'er  think  of  Men  : 
Silvia,  this  when  you  can  do,  bid  me  then  not  think  of  you. 

Love's  not  a  thing  of  Chance,  but  Fate,  that  makes  me  love,  that  makes  you  hate. 
Silvia,  then  do  what  you  will,  ease  or  cure,  torment  or  kill :      \_Htre  the  original 

Be  kind  or  cruel,  false  or  true,  Live  I  must,  and  none  but  you.  song  ends. 

Had  I  loved  as  others  do,  only  for  an  hour  or  two, 
Then  there  had  a  Reason  bin,  I  should  suiter  for  my  sin : 

But  fair  Silvia,  let  me  find  my  dear  Mistress  always  kind. 

Love,  thou  know'st  with  what  a  flame  I  adore  young  Silvia's  name  ; 
Let  me  then  some  pity  find,  Shoot  a  Dart  and  change  her  mind  : 
Change  her  till  she  pity  me,  and  thy  Votary  I'll  be. 

On  her  gentle  downy  breast  let  a  sighing  Lover  rest, 
Twin'd  within  those  tender  Arms,  fetter'd  by  those  pleasing  Charms  ; 
Then  I  will  hereafter  rest  on  the  pilloivs  of  her  Breast. 

Thus  you'll  show  your  power  and  skill,  able  both  to  save  and  kill ; 
But  to  kill  has  always  bin  held  a  most  notorious  Sin  : 

For  young  Beauties,  which  ive  love,  should  be  tender  as  the  Done. 

In  sweet  Groves  we'll  always  dwell,  with  more  Joys  than  tongue  can  tell ; 
There  the  wanton  then  we'll  play,  steal  each  other's  hearts  away, 
Thus  we  will  our  Joys  renew,  and  be  constant  and  be  true. 

Every  Maiden  which  is  fair  should  be  gentle  as  the  Air, 
When  we  to  the  power  submit,  to  their  Beauty  and  their  Wit  : 

Then  their  Charms  will  all  men  move,  and  will  make  them  ever  Love. 

Printed  for  P.  Brooksby,  J.  Deacon,  J.  Blare,  J.  Back. 

[In  Black-letter.     Three  woodcuts.     1st,  the  man  in  Spanish  hat,  vi.  222  ;  2nd, 
a  lady  walking  in  sunshine,  vi.  224  ;  3rd,  the  park-scene,  p.  136.    Date,  1685.] 

This  is  another  adaptation  of  the  original  '  You  I  love '  (reproduced  in  first 
three  stanzas  ;  instead  of  leaving  the  song  to  form  a  finale,  as  on  p.  110).  It  is 
probably  the  very  ballad  cited  as  "  The  Wounded  Lovers  "  in  Wm.  Thackeray's 
List  q/'301  Black-Letter  Ballads,  kept  in  stock,  April,  1685,  of  which  it  is  No.  290. 
The  List  was  fully  printed  and  the  ballads  nearly  all  identified,  by  the  present 
Editor,  in  Bagford  ballads,  lxxvi,  1878.      Few  will  remain  unreprinted. 

The  other  ballad  version  (p.  110)  was  printed  for  Philip  Brooksby,  only,  and 
to  be  sung  to  an  excellent  new  tune.  The  music  of  this,  as  already  shown,  was 
composed  by  Charles  Taylor,  and  is  not  only  in  Playford's  Choice  Ay  res,  Fourth 
Collection,  p.  53,  1683,  but  also  in  the  1719  edition  of  Tills  to  Purge  Melancholy, 
v.  336.  Words  alone  are  in  the  Que  Hundred  and  Eighty  Songs,  1685  and  1694, 
p.  321 ;  also  in  the  1716  edition  of  Dryden's  Miscellany  Poems,  ii.  189  ;  and  The 
Dire,  i.  43,  1724.  They  long  remained  popular,  for  a  later  musician,  Tenoe, 
re-set  them  in  Watts's  Musical  Miscellany,!.  84,  1729  ;  they  are  in  the  Merry 
Musician,  ii.  85.  In  The  Vocal  Miscellany,  circu  1732,  p.  204,  the  tune  named 
for  them  is  Gently  touch  the  trembling  Lyre. 


[Roxb.  Coll.,  II.  206 ;  IV.  50  ;  Euing,  140 ;  Douce,  I.  93  verso ;  Jersey,  II.  47.] 


■William's  Patience  Ecfrjaroco  iottfj  the  consent  of  ^rettg  Nancy. 

To  the  Tune  of,   [  Would  you  le]   the  Man  of  Fashion ;    or,    The 
Boulting  Virgin.     [See  p.  201.] 

Sitting  with  my  dearest  dear,  by  a  little  purling  spring, 
In  the  pleasant  time  o'  th'  year,  when  the  little  Birds  do  sing, 
Straight  I  was  resolv'd  to  move  her,  for  to  know  how  she  inclin'd, 
And  to  tell  her  that  I  lov'd  her,  and  desire  to  know  her  mind. 

Then  quoth  I,  "My  Tprety  Nancy,  well  thou  know'  st  thou  hast  my  heart, 
Thou  alone  art  she  I  fancy,  and  can  only  cure  my  smart : 
Tell  me  then,  my  pretty  fair  one,  when  you  mean  to  change  your  life, 
Tell  me  quickly  then,  my  dear  one,  when  will  you  he  Willy's  Wife?" 

"  Truly  William"  then  quoth  Nancy,  "  men  they  say  are  grown  so 

Every  one  they'l  swear  they  fancy  ;  so  they  may  perhaps  for  change ; 
Yon  may  freely  say  your  pleasure,  I  can  hear  without  distast[e]  : 
Marriage  should  be  done  with  leisure,  and  I'm  sure  I'm  not  in.  haste." 

"  Will  you  be  a  peevish  creature,  and  deny  your  self  a  cure  ? 
Who  could  teach  you  such  ill  nature?  not  your  Mother  I  am  sure  : 
She  was  scarce  arriv'd  at  fourteen,  when  she  lost  a  single  life, 
And  was  pleas'd  so  well  with  courting,  that  she  soon  became  a  wife." 

"  This  I  know  is  her  confession,  but  I've  heard  her  oft  to  pray, 
That  I  might  have  more  discretion,  and  to  wait  a  longer  day  : 
Therefore  I  do  tell  you  fairly,  some  years  more  I  mean  to  \vast[e], 
Tho'  indeed  I  love  you  dearly,  yet  I  am  not  so  much  in  haste." 

204         Tlie  Had//  Wedding ;  or,  "William  and  Nancy. 

"Well,"  quoth  he,  "have  you  consented;  gave  me  hope,  though 

very  cold  ? 
If  you  have  not  again  repented,  I  shall  have  you  when  you'r  old  : 
I  have  patience,  and  you  know  it,  still  to  wait  on  you  whilst  life, 
And  will  never  think  much  to  do  it,  if  that  you  will  be  my  wife." 

"  Now,"  quoth  she,  "I'm  sure  you  love  me,  since  you  are  content 

to  stay, 
And  your  patience  does  so  move  me,  I  will  marry  j'ou  this  day: 
Now  I  see  you  love  me  dearly,  we  no  longer  time  will  wast[e], 
And  I  do  declare  it  clearly,  that  I  am  as  much  in  hast[e]." 

Hand  in  hand  these  lovers  walked,  many  a  kiss  she  did  exchange, 
Many  a  vow  pass  as  they  talked,  that  their  hearts  should  never  range. 
To  the  Church  he  did  conduct  her,  where  the  Priest  did  end  the  strife, 
And  so  well  he  did  instruct  her,  she  that  day  was  William's  Wife. 
Printed  for  P.  Brookshj,  at  the  Golden-Ball,  in  Pye-corner. 

[In  Black-letter.  Three  woodcuts,  one  alone  common  to  both  the  Roxburghe 
exemplars,  viz.  the  young  man,  of  p.  203,  right :  we  follow  R.  C.  IV.  50,  with 
the  grim  lady,  p.  2u3  left ;  Roxb.  Coll.,  II.  206,  has  the  couple  in  forest  dell, 
p.  228.     Date,  1672-82.] 

*#*  We  hope  the  '  Hasty  "Wedding '  proved  happy.  In  ballad  literature  is 
shown  the  connection  of  cuckoldry  and  shrewishness.  Women  who  indulged  in 
the  latter  seldom  left  the  former  in  abeyance.  To  be  false  to  her  husband,  and 
otherwise  to  make  his  life  a  burden  to  him  by  her  tongue,  was  to  use  a  double- 
edged  weapon  of  offensive  warfare.  "How  the  Devil  was  gull'd  by  a  Scold" 
(June,  1630)  is  in  vol.  ii.  366.  Of  better  promise  was  "  The  H  iltshire  Wedding." 
(For  tune,  see  Popular  JUusic,  p.  146.) 

[These  two  ruts  belong  to  p.  197.] 


[Roxb.  Coll.,  III.  286  ;  Pepys,  IV.  107  ;  Jersey,  II.  79  ;  Douce,  II.  256  verso.'] 

Betintit  Daniel  Do-well  anti  Doll  tfje  BatrnvfHaiti.  WLify  the 
consent  of  fyer  olti  jFatJ)Er.  Leather- Coat,  ano  her  Seat-  ant)  tenon: 
fHotfjer  Plodwell. 

To  an  excellent  [North- Country~\  Tune.    [This  maybe  printed,  R.P.J 

A  LI  in  a  misty  morning,  so  cloudy  was  the  weather, 
I  meeting  with  an  old  man,  who  was  cloathed  all  in  leather, 
With  ne'er  a  Shirt  unto  his  back,  but  woollen  to  his  skin. 
With  how  do  you  do,  and  how  do  you  do,  and  how  do  you  do,  again  9 

The  rustick  was  a  Thresher,  and  on  the  way  he  hy'd, 
And  with  a  leather  bottle  fast  buckled  by  his  side ; 
And  with  a  cap  of  woollen,  that  cover' d  cheek  and  chin  : 
With  how  do  you  do  \_and  how  d' 'you  do~\,  etc.  16 

I  went  a  little  farther,  and  there  I  met  a  Maid, 
"Who  was  going  then  a  milking,  "  A-Milking,  Sir,"  she  said. 
Then  I  began  to  compliment,  and  she  began  to  sing : 
With  how  do  you  do  [and  how  d'ye  do~\,  etc. 

This  Maiden's  name  was  Dolly,  cloathed  in  a  gown  of  grey  ; 

I  being  somewhat  jolly,  persuaded  her  to  stay  ; 

Then  strait  I  fell  to  Courting  her,  in  hopes  her  Love  to  win : 

With  how  do  you  do,  and  how  do  you  do,  and  how  do  you  do,  again  ? 

Then  having  time  and  leisure,  I  spent  a  vacant  hour, 

Telling  of  my  treasure,  whilst  sitting  in  the  bower ; 

"With  many  kind  embraces,  I  stroak'd  her  double  chin, 

With  how  do  you  do  [and  how  d'ye  do~\,  etc.  40 

I  told  her  I  would  marry,  and  she  should  be  my  Bride, 

And  long  we  should  not  tarry,  with  twenty  things  beside  : 

"  I'll  plow  and  sow,  and  reap  and  mow,  whilst  thou  shalt  sit  and  spin  ; 

With  how  do  you  do  [atid  how  d'ye  do~\,  etc. 

"  Did  you  not  meet  my  Father  ?  "  the  Damsel  then  reply'd  ; 

"  His  jerkin  was  of  leather,  a  bottle  by  his  side." 

"  Yes,  I  did  meet  him  trudging,  as  fast  as  he  could  win  :   With,''''  etc. 

"  Kind  Sir,  I  have  a  Mother,  besides  a  Father  still ; 

Those  friends,  above  all  others,  you  must  ask  their  Good-will : 

For  if  I  be  undutiful  to  them,  it  is  a  sin  :    With,''1  etc.  64 

Now  there  we  left  the  milk-pail,  and  to  her  Mother  went, 

And  when  we  were  come  thither,  I  asked  her  consent, 

And  doft  my  hat,  and  made  a  leg,  for  why  she  was  within.  With,  etc. 


The  Will:  inn   Wedding, 

"  My  Hu  band  i    a-threshing,  who  ii  her  father  dear, 

He'll  give  her,  with  his  Bit    ing;  kind  Sir,  yon  need  not  fear. 

Hi- i    '.i    ach  good  aature,  thai  be  could  never  lin.     With.         '"'■ 

"  For  bj  your  courteou    carriage,  you  wera  an  hone  t  man ; 

Yaw  maj  hare  her  in  Marriage;  my  Husband  he  anon 

Will  bid  you  rery  welcome,  though  be  be  poor  and  thin.  Withheld 

Her  Dad  came  home  full  weary,   Lias!  he  could  not  chn  •■■ 

Her  mother  being  merry,    he  told  him  all  the  Dews. 

Then  bi  jhty  jolly  too,  lii*  Bong  <li<l  toon  b<  g^ia  :    With,  •  to. 

Her  Parents  being  willing,  all  parti     were  agreed; 

II'  i  portion  thirty  shillings,  they  married  were  with  speed  ; 

Then  Will  the  piper  be  did  play,  while  they  did  dance  and  sinj 

In  plea  11 1  EL    r<  ition  they  pa  s'd  away  the  nigh!  ;  108 

Ami  also  by  relation,  with  her  he  takes  delight, 

To  walk  abroad  on  Holiday  ,  to  nsit  kith  and  kin.     With,  etc. 

'I  hi  N  lu  t\  Ralph  and  Robin,  with  many  dam  el    :•  iy, 

liiil  ride  on  Ronn  and  Dobbin,  t(>  celebrate  the  dayj 

When  being  me1  together,  their  Caps  they  off  did  ding: 

With  In, a  i/i,  you  do,  inn!  how  iio  you  do,  and  hou  do  you  do,  again  ' 

Printed  and  sold  in  Bote  Church  Yard,  London. 

[Ulnck-lettei  brood  id<    [before  1681  and  those  licen  ed  by  Richard  Pocoi  k  ,  vers 
printed  foi    Franeii  '  T<  V$r$t  ./.  Wright,  and  John  Clarke.     Dura  i    a 

White-letter  reprint;   with  three  modern  cul  .    A    bepherd  youth ;  an  old  man, 
hall  lei  nd  b  market  woman  in  s  bigh -peaked  bat  with  i  ba  ket.l 

|  Th<  '  ''  I'    |,J''  I 


€hc  ftOincIicorcr  dZIetfting. 

-.  ol  " '.  •  it  >■■  -  would  hiss !  "— 1  i    10. 


ONEST  TOM  D'URFET  had  some  special  cause  to  like 
Winchester,  as  everybody  has  who  once  had  visited  or  dwelt  there. 
Sonic  remembrance  ol  the  hallowed  quietude  of  its  Cathedral  cl 
alternated  with  a  sense  ol  enjoyment  thai  the  boys  of  Winches 
School  possess,  apart  Prom  the  noise  and  racket  of  Harrow  or  the 
priggish  gentility  ol  more  aristocrat  i<  Eton,  keep  many  from  for- 
getting the  ]'li  Id  city.  Proverbially  we  are  told  that  the 
good  American  [who  in  proof  of  goodness  subscribes  to  ihe  Lvill.tti 
Society],  whenevei  h<  dies  Uas!  that  any  subscriber  should  die, 
anil  his  money  lapse],  straign  to  Paris!  Quite  right  of 
him  to  do  so;  and  we  mai  be  glad  to  find  ours  a  no  worse 
place,  alongside  of  Tom  D'Urfey,  Edward  Fitzgerald,  and  "bright 
broken  Maginn."  Next  I  ?,  or  Loi  don,  we  Bhould  prefer 
Winchester.  When  Charles  11.  visited  thai  city  in  ins-j.  it  is 
probable  that  Tom  D'Urfey  composed  and  sang  this  or  him. 
w  know  that  Tom  was  in  request  to  discourse  Bweet  music  at 
Winchester,  and  elsewhere  [compare  vol.  v,  p.  280)  to  the  A! 
Monarch.     K.I.I' 

In  Popular  Musio,  p.  496,  Mr.  William  Chappell  gave  the  n 
ol    Tk$  i  .  with  the  openin  I   D'Ui 

11  Winchestei   Wedding"  (which  title  popularly  displaced  that 
The  .  but   mentioned   t ho  -         as  being   "  - 

ntable  now."     This  work  being  meant  lor  the  general  pul 
thai  nothing  might  horrify  "  ihe  young  person  "  or  such  a  terrible 
guardian  of  propriety  as  •  The  British  Matron,1  I 
Wedding  were  no!  always  personally  conducted  with  puritanic 

precision,  as  shown  in  in  ballad  which  records  the  psalm- 

ting.     If  likely  to  be  offended,  "  "  ■'." 

8  vropathy  i  Wilty,  who  [as  in  (he 

of    Lad]    Hep  of  the  'Bridal  of    Neth<  and  1 1 1 <   bridesmaidens 

whisper,  "'twere  better  by  far,  to  ba\ •    match'd  our  fair  cousin  with  y 

."    "Bat  Willy  \v:i>  mel  >  mind  bo  tb< 

It  fy  him  and  hej  in  the  woodcut  on  p.  203.     Bui  Rohin  is  mindful  of  bis 

friend,  when  ihp  "poor  silly  B  m"  forgt  ind  man 

and  i)n  parted  lovers  are  left  undisturbed  to  l*i'l  Adieu  oi  ■>: 

•■  I  i  ,   V  \t  ■  on  n.   136  of    120   /  S 

p.  LSI  of  the  180  1         5  Che  West-Countr 

(I)Tit(v's  own  suppose      v      el,  but  to  a  different  tune),  on  p.  "210.  wherein 

'..     Tin 
'  ballad, 
Whether  Besse,  J  bride 

iIim  im  l\  named  (triph  >«*■ 


[Roxburghe  Coll.,  III.  314  ;  Bagford,  II.  80 ;  Pepys,  IV.   10G  ;  Ouvry,  I.  G  ; 

Douce,  II.  252vo.,  III.  106.] 

C6e  ftOmcfjestec  Centring;; 


Ralph  of  Reading,  and  Black  Bess  of  the  Green, 

Did  together  resort,  and  caused  such  sport,  as  before  scarce  ever  was  seen. 

To  a  new  Country  Dance ;  or,  The  King's  Jigg. 

AT  Winchester  [there]  was  a  Wedding,  the  like  was  never  seen, 
'Twixt  lusty  Ralph  of  Reading  and  bonny  black  Bess  of  the  Green. 
The  Fidlers  were  crowding  before,  each  Lass  was  as  fine  as  a  Queen,         [p.  18. 
There  was  an  hundred,  and  more,  for  all  the  Country  came  in. 
Brisk  Robin  led  Rosy  so  fair,  she  look'd  like  a  Lilly  o'  th'  Vale  ; 
And  ruddy-faced  Harry  led  Mary,  and  Roger  led  bouncing  Nell.  12 

With  Tommy  came  smiling  Katy,  he  help'd  her  over  the  Stile, 

And  swore  there  was  none  so  pretty,  in  forty  and  forty  long  mile  ; 

Kit  gave  a  green  gown  to  Betty,  and  lent  her  a  hand  to  rise  ;  [Of.  p.  67. 

But  Jenny  was  jeer'd  by  Watty,  for  looking  blew  under  the  eyes  : 
Thus  merrily  chatting  all  day,  they  pass'd  to  the  Bride-house  along, 
With  Johnny  and  pretty-faced  Nanny,  the  fairest  of  all  the  Throng.  24 

The  Bridegroom  came  out  to  meet  'em,  afraid  the  dinner  was  spoil'd, 
And  usher' d  'em  in,  to  treat  'em,  with  baked,  and  roast,  and  boil'd. 
Tbe  Lads  were  frollick  and  jolly,  for  each  had  a  Lass  by  his  side  ; 
But  Willy  was  melancholly,  for  he  had  a  mind  to  the  Bride  : 

Then  Philip  began  her  Health,  and  turn'd  a  beer-glass  on  his  thumb  ; 

But  Jenkin  was  reckon'd  for  drinking,  the  best  in  Christendom.  36 

And  now  they  had  dined,  advancing  into  the  midst  of  the  Hall, 

The  Fidlers  struck  up  for  dancing,  and  Jeremy  led  up  the  Brawl ; 

But  Margery  kept  a  quarter,  a  Lass  that  was  proud  of  her  pelf,  [  =  brabble. 

'Cause  Arthur  had  stolen  her  garter,  and  swore  he  would  tye  it  himself. 

Tom  D'TJrfey's  <  Winchester  Wedding.'  209 

She  struggled,  she  Mushed,  and  frown'd,  and  was  ready  with  anger  to  cry, 
'Cause  Arthur  with  tying  her  garter,  had  slipp'd  his  hands  too  high.  48 

And  now  for  throwing  the  Stocking,  the  Bride  away  was  led, 

The  Bride-groom  got  drunk,  and  was  knocking  for  candles  to  light  him  to  bed  : 

But  Robin,  that  had  found  him  silly,  most  kiudly  took  him  aside, 

While  that  his  wife  with  Willy  was  playing  at  Whoopees- Hide.     [=Bli>uhnnu's 

And  now  the  warm  Game  begins,  the  critical  minute  was  come,  Buff. 

And  chatting,  and  billing,  and  kissing,  went  merrily  round  the  room.  60 

Pert  Stephen  was  kind  to  Betty,  as  blith  as  a  birde  in  the  Spring, 

Aud  Tommy  was  so  to  Kntu,  aud  wedded  her  with  a  Rush-ring";       [Note,  below. 

Sukey,  that  danced  with  the  Cushion,  an  hour  from  the  room  had  been  gone  ; 

And  Bamaby  knew,  by  her  blushing,  that  some  other  Dance  had  been  done. 
And  thus  of  Fifty  fair  Maids,  that  came  to  the  Wedding  with  Men, 
Scarce  Five  of  the  Fifty  were  left  ye,  that  so  did  return  again.  72 

Brisk  BoUy  and  pretty-fac'd  Kate  this  merriment  they  did  adore ; 

Each  Lass  had  been  pleas'd  with  her  Mate,  as  they  never  had  been  before ; 

Nay,  Susan,  was  pleased  at  heart,  she  said  it,  and  said  it  again, 

"  The  young  Men  have  play'd  their  part,  and  no  one  had  cause  to  complaiu." 
The  day  was  in  merriment  spent,  the  Pipes  and  the  Fidlers  they  play, 
Before  all  the  Throng  as  they  went ;  thus  they  made  an  end  of  the  day.         84 

[So  teas  not  this  ajine  Wedding,  where  all  was  pleas'1 'd  to  the  life? 
And  they  say,  he  makes  a  kind  Husband,  and  she,  a  very  good  Wife.~\ 

[Written  by  Tom  D  Urfey. 

[Bagford  copy,  chief  woodcut  is  on  p.  208.  Printed  for  J.  Deacon,  at  the  Angel 
in  Guilt-spur-street,  without  Newgate ;  Pepysian  for  P.  Brooksby,  at  the 
Go'd»u-Ball  in  Pye-Comer  ;  1st  Douce,  by  f.  Norris:  Roxb.,  n.p.n.  Date, 
before  1684.  when  it  was  printed  in  Several  New  Snugs  by  Thomas  W  Urfey, 
Esq.,  and  in  One  Hundred  and  Twenty  Loyal  Songs,  p.  136,  also  in  One 
Hundred  and  Eighty  Loyal  Songs,  with  music,  168.3,  and  1694,  p.  131,  along- 
side of  the  skilful  political  parody,  "  In  Praise  of  the  Loyal  Company  of 
Stationers,"  who,  after  the  general  forfeit,  for  their  singular  Loyalty,  obtained 
the  first  Charter  of  London,  16^4.  It  begins,  "  In  London  was  such  a  Quarter, 
the  like  was  never  known,  about  the  forfeited  Charter,  betwixt  the  Court  and 
the  Town."  Ba^ford's  exemplar  has  two  other  cuts,  the  single  head  (from 
John  Taylor's  Kings  of  England)  helmed,  given  in  vol.  vi.  p.  184,  with  the 
vase  and  flowers,  ante,  p.  184.     The  Italicized  Finale  is  in  broadside  only.] 

Line  64. — Marrying  with  a  Push-Ring,  i.e.  a  Ring  made  of  twisted  sedge, 
had  been  already  mentioned  on  p.  123.  It  was  esteemed  among  loose-life  people 
as  a  kind  of  betrothal,  called  Holdfasting,  but  was  more  a  substitute  for  wedlock 
than  an  equivalent,  consequently  a  preparatory  to  the  seduction  of  maids.  (See 
Brand,  snh  voce.)  The  only  Shakespearean  allusion  to  the  custom,  is  perhaps  this 
in  All's  Well  that  Ends  Well,  ii.  2 -It  is  "as  Tib's  Rush  for  Tom's  forefinger." 

[This  woodcut  belongs 

VOL.    VII. 


[Roxburgh©  Collection,  III.  855  ;  Pepys,  IY.  290 ;  C.  22.  c.  2,  fol.  73.] 

Eogcr's  Ocligbt; 

©r,  tije  WitsU Cottntrg  (Efjti'st'runcf  anfi  ©osst'pt'ncj. 

To  an  Excellent  New  Tune,  or  Cold  and  Raw.    Licensed  according  to  Order. 

WHen  Sol  had  l[oosed]  his  weary  Teams,  and  tnm'd  his  Steeds  a  Grazing-, 
Ten  fathom  deep  in  Neptune's  streams,  he  his  Thetis  lay  embracing  ;    * 
The  Stars  tript  in  the  Firmament,  like  school-boys  on  a  Play-day  ; 
The  Country  Lasses  a  Mumming  went,  like  Milk-maids  on  a  May-day.  8 

Then  a-pace  grew  on  the  grey-ey'd  Morn,  when  the  Herdsman's  Flocks  were  lowing ; 
And  amongst  the  Poultry  in  the  barn,  the  Flow-man's  Cocks  were  crowing  ; 
Whilst  Roger  he  dreamt  of  Golden  Joys,  was  wak'd  by  a  Revel-rout,  Sir, 
But  Cicely  she  tells  him  he  needs  must  rise,  for  his  Jtiggy  was  crying  out,  Sir. 

Note.—"  Cold  and  raw  the  North  did  blaw,"  begins  "  The  Northern  Ditty  ; 
or,  The  Scotsman  outwitted  by  a  Country  Damsel  "  (Roxb.  Coll.,  II.  374),  another 
ballad  written  by  Tom  D'Urfey  before  1688.  With  the  additional  second,  third, 
and  fourth  parts,  it  follows  on  pp.  233  to  237.  For  notes  of  the  tune,  Stingo  or  Oil 
of  Barley,  see  Popular  Music,  pp.  309,  313.  The  true  tune  was  The  Hempdresser. 
(Burns  wrote  to  it " The  Deil  came  fidling  through  the  town.'")  "  The  West-Country 
Christening"  is  D'TTrfey's  own  possible  Sequel  to  the  Winchester  Wedding^ 
showing  the  silly  bemuddled  bridegroom,  Ralph,  alias  Roger,  a  year  later,  be- 
muzzed  and  stupefied,  surrounded  with  gossips  at  the  birth  and  private-baptism 
of  his  little  daughter  (in  Kent  the  cei'emony  is  mis-called  '  half-naming ').  He 
counts  the  weakling  as  his  own,  and  if  he  is  contented,  nay,  proud  of  it, 
nobody  nend  grumble  :  not  even  Willy,  who  knows  more  than  we  choose  to  guess. 

Tom  D'Urfey's  Sequel :  '  Rogers  Delight:  211 

Not  half  so  merry  the  Cup  went  round,  at  the  Tapping  of  good  Ale- Firkin, 
Then  Roger  his  hose  and  shoes  had  found,  and  button'd  his  leathern-Jerkin  ; 
Grey  Mare  was  saddl'd  with  wondrous  speed,  with  Pillion  and  buttock  aright,  Sir, 
And  for  an  old  Midwife  away  he  rode,  to  bring  the  poor  Kid  to  light,  Sir.         24 

"  Oh  !  good  Mother,  I  pray  get  up,  for  the  fruits  of  my  labour  it's  now  come, 
And  there  it  lyes  struggling  in  Juggy's  womb,  but  it  cannot  get  out  till  you  come. " 
"  I'll  help  her  (quoth  the  old  Hag) ,  ne'er  doubt,  thy  Juggy  shall  be  well  again,  Boy, 
And  I'se  warrant  that  l'se  get  the  Kid  out,  as  well  as  thou  gottest  it  in,  Boy." 

Grey  Mare  they  mount,  and  away  they  ride,  no  whip  nor  spur  was  wanting  ; 
As  soon  as  the  old  Hag  enter' d  the  room,  then  '  [w]hoop  !  '  cry'd  out  the  Bantling  ; 
A  Female  Chit,  so  small  it  was  born,  you  might  put  it  into  a  Flaggon, 
And  it  must  be  Christen' d  that  very  morn,  for  fear  it  should  die  a  Pagan.  40 

Then  Robin  and  Boll,  with  constant  Kale,  were  Gossips  for  this  great  Christ'ning, 
And  the  good  Wives  did  merrily  prate,  whilst  Juggy  iu  bed  lay  list'ning  ; 
They  talk'd  of  this,  and  they  talk'd  of  that,  of  Chatt'ing  they  were  not  sparing, 
Some  said  it  was  so  small  a  Brat,  that  'twas  hardly  worth  the  rearing.  48 

Then  Roger  he  strutted  about  the  Hall,  as  great  as  the  Prince  of  Goncle ; 

"  What  if  her  parts  they  are  but  small,  they  will  be  bigger  one  day. 

What  if  her  legs  and  thighs  lie  close,  as  little  as  any  Spider, 

You  need  not  fear,  e'er  seventeen  years,  she'll  lig  them  a  little  wider.  56 

"  For  then  she'll  be  a  Woman  grown,  I'll  lay  Five  Pounds  in  money  ; 

And  have  a  little  one  of  her  own,  as  well  as  Jug  my  Honey  : 

These  will  be  joyful  days  to  see,  I'll  study  for  to  advance  her, 

That  Juggy  may  a  Granny  be,  then  I  shall  be  a  Grandsire."  64 

Then  Nappy  Ale  went  fairly  round,  as  brown  as  any  berry, 
With  which  the  good  Wives  being  crown'd,  they  all  were  brisk  and  merry  ; 
Whilst  Roger  he  turn'd  Cups  over  his  thumb,  to  every  honest  Neighbour, 
Saying,  "  A  Twelve-month  hence  pray  come,  once  more  to  my  Juggy's  Labour. 

[Written  by  Tom  D'Urfey.] 

Northampton  :  Printed  by  R.  Raikes  and  W.  Dicey  ;  and  sold  by  Matthias 
Dagnel  in  Aylesbury  and  Leighton,  Stephen  Daqnel  in  Ohesham,  William  Ratten 
in  Coventry,  Thomas  Williams  in  Tring,  Booksellers  ;  Nathan  Ward  in  Sun- 
Lane  in  Reading ;  William  Royce  in  St.  Clements,  Oxford ;  Paul  Stephens  in 
Bister;  Anthony  Thorpe  at  the  White  Swan  in  St.  Albans;  Mr.  Franks  in 
Wooburne ;  William  Peachy  near  St.  Benet's  Church  in  Cambridge  ;  and  by 
Chururd  Brady  in  St.  Ives ;  at  all  which  places  are  sold  all  sorts  of  Ballads, 
Broad-sheets,  and  Histories,  with  finer  cuts,  better  print,  and  as  cheap  as  at  any 
place  in  England. 

[White-letter  (with  one  woodcut  =  Old  Ballads,  ii.  182,  1725)  ;  a  reprint,  1720. 
Pepys  copy,  and  C.  22,  fol.  73  (corrective),  are  in  Black-letter,  printed  for 
Philip  Brooksby,  at  the  Golden-Ball  in  Pye-corner.  Date,  1687-88.  With 
three  cuts.  1st,  the  man,  on  our  p.  31  l.  ;  2nd.  a  young  woman  on  horse-back 
(without  the  cornuto  symbol  of  horns,  or  the  man  behind,  of  p.  210)  ;  3rd,  the 
carved-wood  ornamental  frieze,  as  on  p.  209.] 

On  the  verso  of  the  Roxburghe  exemplar  is  a  large  woodcut,  entitled  "The 
Bubblers  Bubbled;  or  the  Devil  take  the  Hindmost."     Dated  1720. 

'  Roger's  Benown,'  a  different  ballad  on  a  rustic  christening  or  Gossips'  Feast, 
at  the  house  of  a  ploughman  similarly  named  Roger  (but  father  of  three  boys  at 
one  birth),  is  added  for  contrast,  on  p.  236,  it  being  the  Fourth  Part  of  Tom 
D'Urfey's  Cold  and  Raw  {the  same  tune).  'Roger's  Delight'  connects  better 
with  it  than  with  '  The  Winchester  Wedding,'  whereof  the  tune  is  different. 



Cbe  Wanton  Wiiiz  of  15at&. 

"  Saint  Pierre  perdit  l'autre  jour 
Les  clefs  clu  celeste  sejour. 

[L'histoire  est  v>  aiment  singuli^re  !) 
C'est  Margot  qui,  passant  par  la, 
Dans  son  gousset  les  lui  vola. 

'  Je  vais,  Margot,  passer  pour  un  nigaud  : 
Sendez-moi  mes  clefs  !  '  disait  Saint  Pierre." — Biranger. 

INCE  the  Miracle  Plays,  the  Christmas  Mumraings,  and  Easter 
Mysteries  of  old  time,  when  the  '  Vice '  with  his  dagger  of  lath,  or 
the  Lord-of-Misrule  and  Abbot  of  Unreason  indulged  in  bold  antics 
that  were  not  removed  from  profanity,  yet  which  were  encouraged 
by  devout  Christian  preachers  and  teachers,  no  less  than  by  the 
clamourous  populace,  there  have  been  few  '  risky  subjects '  better 
welcomed  in  modern  years,  by  high  and  low,  than  the  broadside 
ballad  of  "The  Wanton  Wife  of  Bath,"  an  appropriate  finish  to 
our  '  Matrimonial  Group.'  Dr.  Thomas  Percy  included  it  in  vol.  iii. 
of  his  famous  Heliques,  in  1765  (Book  ii  No.  12),  and  1767  (vol. 
iii.  p.  145):  pre-episcopal  earth-quakings  ejected  it  from  his  third 
edition,  1775  ;   and  Lawn  scruples  from  his  fourth,  in  1794. 

It  is  boldly  plain-spoken,  admittedly,  but  the  ballad-writer  neither 
seeks  profanity  nor  seriously  offends.  The  character  of  Chaucer's 
Polyandrous  "Wife  of  Bath"  is  well  marked  throughout.  Her 
anger  blazes  instantaneously,  without  any  smouldering  resentment. 
She  fights  for  her  own  hand,  like  Hal  o'  th'  Wynd  ;  surpassing 
Mause  Headrigg  at  Scriptural  quotation,  since  she  can  boast  to  have 
"  discomfitted  an  host  of  men,  and  by  the  help  of  the  Lord  I  hae 
loupen  ower  a  dyke."  It  is  the  invincibility  of  a  soul,  sorely  bestead, 
but  vanquishing  a  multitude.  Perhaps  she  deserved  to  have  been 
sent  to  her  own  place,  for  shameless  insolence. 

The  courtly  Addison  disdained  not  to  praise  our  broadside  ditty,  and  quote  it 
as  an  authority,  saying,  "  That  excellent  old  ballad  of  The  Want  an  Wife  of  Bath 
hath  the  following  remarkable  lines,  '  I  think,  quoth  Thomas,  Women's  tongues 
of  aspen  leaves  are  made,'  etc."  {The  Spectator,  No.  247,  December  13,  1711.) 
Moreover,  "having  occasion  to  give  us  some  lines  of  Ovid  [Melam.  1.  6.  v.  556] 
upon  the  same  subject,  he  first  quoted  our  Song-enditer  and  then  the  Roman." 
(The  paper,  not  signed,  C.  L.  I.  or  0.,  may  be  by  Steele,  instead  of  Addison.) 

Among  the  Tableaux  collected  by  Barbazan  in  1756,  and  re-edited  by  bis 
successor  Meon,  1808,  and  1823,  iv.  44,  enlarged  collection,  is  the  story  which 
may  have  suggested  the  much-later  ballad  of  "  The  Wife  of  Bath."  It  is 
Le  Vilaiu  qui  conquist  Paradis  par  Plaint,  and  similarly  mingles  irreverence  with 
genuine  piety.  "A  Villein  comes  to  heaven's  gate,  is  refused  admission,  and 
successively  silences  St.  Peter,  St.  Thomas,  and  St.  Paid,  by  very  pointed  references 
to  their  earthly  weaknesses."  A  later  time  (1822)  welcomed  Byron's  'Liberal' 
parody  of  Southey's  Vision  of  Judgment,  telling'  of  a  stranger  altercation  in  the 
same  regions,  when  "  St.  Peter  sate  at  the  Celestial  Gate,  his  keys  were  rusty  and 
the  lock  was  dull,  So  little  trouble  had  been  given  of  late  :  not  that  the  place  by 
any  means  was  full." 


[Roxb.  Coll.,  II.  487*;.,  III.  506,  889  ;  Bagford,  I.  31,  II.  13  ;  Pepys,  II.  39  ; 
Wood,  E.  25,  f.  93  ;  Douce,  II.  241,  III.  107  v.,  IV.  29,  30 ;  Euing,  374.] 

C&e  WLmton  aoiife  of  i©art). 

[The]  Tune  is,  [  When']  Flying  Fame,  etc.     [See  Note  below.] 

IN  Bath  a  wanton  Wife  did  dwell,  as  Chaucer  he  doth  write, 
Who  did  in  pleasure  spend  her  dayes,  and  many  a  fond  delight. 
Upon  a  time  sore-sicke  she  was,  and  at  the  length  did  dye ; 
Her  Soul  came  to  Fliziuni's  Gate,  and  knock'd  most  mightily.* 
[First]  Adam  came  unto  the  gate,  "  Who  knocketh  there  ?  "  quoth  he. 
"  I  am  the  Wife  of  Bath"  she  said,  "  and  faine  would  come  to  thee." 
"  Thou  art  a  Sinner,"  Adam  said,  "  and  here  no  place  shall  have." 
"  Alas,  for  you  !  good  Sir,"  she  said,  "  now  gip,  you  doating  knave  ! 

"  I  will  come  in,  in  spight,"  she  said,  "  of  all  such  churls  as  thee ; 
Thou  art  the  Causer  of  our  woe,  our  pain  and  misery. 

"  Thou  first  broke  God's  commandment,  to  pleasure  thine  own  wife." 
When  Adam  heard  her  tell  this  Tale,  he  ran  away  for  life. 

Thfn  down  came  Jacob  to  the  gate,  and  bids  her  pack  to  Hell ; 

"  Thou  false  Deceiver,  why  ?  "  quoth  she,  "  thou  should'st  be  there 

as  well"  [Vide  pp.  215,  216,  for  variations. 

"For  thou  deceiv'dst  thy  Father  dear,  and  thy  own  Brother  too  !  " 
Away  [slunk]  Jacob  presently,  and  made  no  more  ado. 

She  knocks  again,  with  might  and  main,  andZot  he  chides  her  straight. 
"  Why  then."  quoth  she,  "thou  drunken  Ass,  who  bids  thee  here 
to  wait  ? 

"  With  thy  two  daughters  thou  did'st  lye,  on  them  two  bastards  got !  " 
And  thus  most  tauntingly  she  chaft  against  poor  silly  Lot. 

Note. — The  tune  properly  called  When  Flying  Fame  (words  lost),  still  earlier 
In  Peascod  time,  later  as  Chevy  Chaee  (see  vol.  vi.,  and  its  Time-Index,  p.  85,  for 
many  references),  was  widely  known.  It  is  given  in  Popular  Music,  p.  199. 
To  this  tune,  cited  as  Chevy  Chace,  was  written  by  Thomas  Weaver,  27  July, 
1647,  the  political  ballad  entitled  "  Strange  and  True  JSfewes  of  an  Ocean  of  Flies 
dropping  out  of  a  Cloud,  upon  the  towne  of  BODNAM  m  Cornwall."  Unlucky 
Bodnam!  already  mentioned,  alias  Bodmin,  on  our  pp.  39  to  41.  Whether  flies 
or  Puritanism  and  later-methodism  were  the  worse  infliction,  we  leave  cansists 
to  settle.  The  ballad  was  intended  to  show  how  it  happens  that  "  When  kings 
have  lost  their  reignes  and  powei-,  Then  clouds  upon  us  judgements  showre." 
An  undeniable  proposition.     It  begins  thus  {Percy  Society,  1841,  i.  38) : — 

"  Some  talke  of  Battailes  in  the  aire,  and  Comets  in  the  skies, 
But  now  we'll  tell  a  tale  more  rare  of  great  and  monstrous  Flies. 
In  Cornwall  this  strange  sight  was  seen,  at  Bodnam  Towne  by  name, 
Which  will  be  justified  still  by  a  Lawyer  of  great  fame,"  etc. 

"  Printed  in  the  Year  of  Miracles,  1647."     Our  'Clerk  of  Bodnam'  remembered  it. 

214  The  Wanton  Wife  of  Bath. 

"Who  knocketh  there?"  quoth  Judith  then,   "with   such  shrill 

sounding  Notes?" 
"  This   fine  minks  surely  cannot  hear,"  quoth   she,   "  for  cutting 

throats."  ivide  al-  lect->  P- 215- 

Good  Lord  !  how  Judith  hlush'd  for  shame,  when  she  heard  her  say  so. 
King  David  hearing  [of  the  same],  he  to  the  gate  did  go. 

Quoth  he,  ""Who  does  knock  there  so  loud,  &  maketh  all  this  strife?" 
"  You  were  more  kind,  good  Sir,"  she  said,  "unto  Uriah's  wife. 

"  And  when  thy  servant  thou  did'st  cause  in  battle  to  be  slain, 
Thou  causedst  them  more  strife  than  I,  who  would  come  in  so  fain." 

"  The  woman's  mad  !  "  said  Solomon,  "  that  thus  doth  taunt  a  king." 
"Not  half  so  mad  as  you,"  she  said,  "  I  trow,  in  many  a  thing. 

"  Thou  had'st  seven  hundred  wives  at  once,  for  whom  thou  didst 

provide ; 
[Yet]  for  all  this,  three  hundred  whores  thou  did['st]  maintain  beside. 

"And  those  made  thee  forget  thy  God,  and  worship  Stocks  and  Stones, 
Besides  the  charge  they  put  thee  to  [in]  breeding  [of]  young  bones. 

"  Had'st  thou  not  been  out  of  thy  wits,  thou  would'st  not  [thus] 

have  ventur'd ; 
And  therefore  I  do  marvel  much  how  you  Ihis  Place  have  enter'd." 

"  I  never  heard,"  quoth  Jonas  then,  "  so  vile  a  Scold  as  this." 
"Thou  art  not  without  faults,"  quoth  she,  "thou'st  likewise  done 

"  I  think,"  quoth  Thomas,  "women's  tongues  of  aspen  leaves  are 

"  Thou  unbelieving  Saint !  "  quoth  she,  "  all  is  not  true  that's  said." 

When  Mary  Magdalen  heard  [her]  then,  she  came  unto  the  gate  ; 
Quoth  she,  "  Good  Woman,  you  must  think  upon  your  former  state. 

"  No  sinner  enters  in  this  place,"  quoth  Mary  Magdalen  then. 
"  'Twere  ill  for  you,  fair  Mistress  mild  !  "  she  answered  her  agen. 

"  You  for  your  Honesty,"   quoth  she,    "  should  once    have   been 

ston'd  to  death, 
Had  not  our  Saviour  Christ  come  by,  and  writ  it  on  the  earth. 

"  It  was  [not  by]  your  occupation  you  are  become  divine  ! 

I  hope  my  Soul  [by]  Christ's  Passion,  shall  be  as  safe  as  thine." 

Then  rose  up  the  good  Apostle  Paul,  unto  this  wife  he  [cry'd], 
"  Except  thou  shake  thy  sins  away,  thou  here  shalt  be  deny'd  !  " 

"  Kemember,  Paul,  what  thou  hast  done,  all  through  a  wild  Desire, 
How  thou  did'st  persecute  the  Church,  with  wrath  as  hot  as  fire." 

Then  up  rose  Peter,  at  the  last,  and  to  the  gate  he  hies; 

"  Sinner,"  quoth  he,  "  knock  not  so  fast,  thou  weariest  us  with  cries." 

The  Wanton  Wife  of  Bath.  215 

"Peter,''''  said  she,  "  content  thyself,  for  Mercy  may  be  won; 
I  never  did  deny  the  Faith,  as  thou  thyself  hast  done." 

When  as  our  Saviour  heard  this  [told],  with  heavenly  Angels  bright, 
He  comes  unto  this  sinful  soul,  who  trembled  at  his  sight. 

Of  Him  for  mercy  she  did  cry.     Quoth  he,  "  Thou  hast  refused 
My  proffered  grace,  and  mercy  both,  and  much  my  Name  abused." 

"  Sore  have  I  sinned,  0  Lord  !  "  said  she,  "  &  spent  my  time  in  vain  ; 
But  bring  me,  like  a  wander' d  sheep,  unto  thy  [fold]  again  ! 

"  0  Lord  my  God,  I  will  forsake  my  former  wicked  vice  ; 
The  thief,  when  he  had  said  these  words,  pass'd  into  Paradise." 

"  My  Laws  and  my  Commandments,"  saith  Christ,  "  were  known 

to  thee ; 
But  [thou]  of  the  same  no  notice  took,  as  I  did  plainly  see." 

"  Do  thou  forgive  me  now,"  quoth  she,  "  most  lewdly  I  did  live  ; 
But  yet  the  loving  Father  did  his  [Prodigal]  Son  forgive." 

"  I  will  forgive  thy  soul,"  said  he,  "  for  thy  repenting  cry, 
So  come  [now]  enter  into  my  Best,  for  I'll  not  thee  deny." 

[Colophon  lost  from  first  Roxburghe,  modern  issue,  in  white-letter.  But 
second  Roxb.,  Bagford's  copies,  the  Pepysian,  Wood's,  Euing  and  Huth,  are 
in  Black-letter,  respectively  bearing  these  imprints:  (Bagiord's  1st)  for  W. 
0\jiley\  and  A.  Melbourne]  ;  (2nd)  for  W.  Thackeiay,  at  the  Angel  in  Luck- 
Lane  ;  (Pepysian)  J.  C[larke],  W.  T\haekeray]  and  T.  P[assenger~\  ;  (Wood's 
and  Euing's)  Francis  Coles;  (Douce,  IV.  29 ;  Ouvry,  I.  54;  II.  73;  modern 
reprints)  fills  Press,  Seven  Dials.    Original  date,  probably  circa,  1613 ;  doubtful. 

Note.—  The  various  readings  are  numerous,  no  two  copies  exactly  coinciding, 
and  no  authoritative  early  exemplar  surviving.  We  need  not  record  every 
difference,  only  the  chief  in  importance,  early  of  date,  and  by  numbered  half-lines  ; 
here  printed  run-on  into  whole-lines,  to  save  space.  Line  7  reads,  elsewhere, 
And  then  her  Soul  at  Heaven's  gate  did  knock  most  mightily.     Then,  etc. 

Line  16. — Gip,  a  term  of  contempt,  may  be  either  a  brief  contraction  of 
'  Giptian,  a  well-known  substitute  for  ^Egyptian  alias  Gipsy,  or  (as  is  probable 
in  this  place)  a  saucy  insinuation  of  his  having  been  gelt  like  a  Gib-cot.  The 
meaning  need  not  be  strained.  But  as  gip  is  Yorkshire  dialect  =to  retch  or 
vomit,  the  term  may  be  equivalent  to  "you  turn  me  sick  !  "  Across  the  Atlantic, 
folk  would  say,  with  Bret  Harte,  'git ! ' 

Line  39.— Nota  Bene,  our  modern  slang  of  "  chaft,"  bantered  ;  \\exe=chaftd. 

Line  43.—"  Alas  !  fine  Minx  we  come  not  here  (quoth  she),  for  cutting  throats." 
Good  lack  .'  etc.     (This  is  the  inferior  Roxburghe  version.) 

Line  53.— Text  mis-reads,  awkwardly,  "  And  when  thou  causest  thy  servants," 
etc.     Al  led.,  'come  in.' 

Line  60.— Text  weakly  modernizes  '  I  trow  ! '  into  '  I  know' 

Line  65-68.— Text  reads  inaccurately,  "For  all  this  three  hundred,"  etc.... 
"  of  breeding  young  Bones." 

Line  69.—^/.  led.,  beside  thy  wits. ..not  thus  have... 

Line  75  of  the  Roxb.  broadside  is  a  very  mild  Bowdlerism  of  the  older  and 
better  text,  which  runs,  with  more  characteristic  insolence,  "  Thou  whoreson 
Runaway"  quoth  she,  "  thou  diddest  more  amiss  !  "  But  we  leave  the  text 
standing,  for  the  sake  of  weak-kneed  ecclesiastics  who  wheeze  over  improprieties. 

216  The  Wanton  Wife  of  Bath. 

A  ballad  '  Historie  of  the  Prophet  Jonas,'  tune  of  Paggington's  Pound,  begins, 
"  Vnto  the  Prophet  Jonas,  I  read;  "  printed  by  Edw.  Allde,  circa  1602.  Cf. 
our  motto  on  title-page,  from  Fletcher's  Monsieur  Thomas,  Act  iii.  3. 

Line  79. — "Unbelieving  tDreteh!"  is  the  old  reading,  correct  no  doubt.  In 
her  anger  sbe  would  not  be  quick  to  remember  the  Apostolic  saintliness  of  this 
noblest  representative  of  modern  pessimism,  of  undeviating  loyalty  that  shrank 
from  the  noisy  declamation  and  socialism,  but  was  most  ready  for  self-sacrince. 
"Doubting  Thomas,"  indeed!  Why  those  gregarious  rebukers,  who  use  the 
term,  are  incapable  of  understanding  his  native  grandeur  and  sincerity. 

Line  87.— Roxburghe  text  reads,  weakly,  "'1'is  well  for  you  then,  fair 
Mistress,"  she,  etc. 

Line  98.  — Roxb.  text  reads  '  he  said.'' 

Line  107. — Roxb.  text  reads  '  Sinner,'  where  others  have  '  Fond Ifiiol ! ' 

Lines  89-92. — What  wilful '  confusion  of  persons  '  is  here,  the  mixing  together 
Mary  of  Magdala  "out  of  whom  He  had  cast  seven  devils"  with  the  'woman 
taken  in  adultery '  of  8.  Luke  viii.  Even  thus,  ignorantly  and  destructively, 
the  nameless  "woman  who  had  been  a  sinner"  and  who  brought  the  pot  of 
ointment  to  our  Lord  in  the  house  of  Simon  the  Pharisee  (S.  Luke,  vii.)  was 
by  Lady  Eastl  .  .  e  commingled  with  the  meek  Mary  of  Bethany,  who  brought 
later  "  against  his  burial  "  her  pot  of  spikenard  to  the  house  of  Simon,  the  leper. 

Line  111. — Al.  led.,  'deny  my  Christ.' 

Line  125. — Al.  led.,  '  will  amend  for  one  poor  silly  word.' 

Lines  131,  132,  other  reading, '  But  of  the  same  in  enquiry  not  one  word,  did  ye.'' 

Line  136. — Roxb.  text  weakly  reads  '  wicked  Son.' 

*x*  Here  befittingly  ensues  a  change  of  scene,  an  interval,  for  refreshment. 
No  one  need  regret  that  the  '  Wife  of  Hath  '  found  peace  at  last,  howsoever 
wanton  she  may  have  been  aforetime,  and  in  the  abeyance  of  the  wholesome 
practice  of  Suttee  ("until  the  said  discipline  may  be  restored  again,  which  is  much 
to  be  wished,"  says  one  Edward  White).  We  somewhat  trembled  for  her;  but 
at  the  proper  moment  she  laid  aside  her  evil  habit  of  answering  railing  with 
railing,  and  felt  piously  abashed.  So  far  well.  Scolding  wives  usually  reached 
lower  regions  when  their  career  ended,  according  to  ecclesiastical  records  at 
Lambeth.  One  Scotch  termagant  was  exhorted  to  be  kind  to  her  husband  when 
he  provoked  her  :  "  Be  kind  to  him,  my  good  woman,  and  sae  heap  coals  o'  Jire 
on  his  head ! "  Sbe  is  credibly  reported  to  have  accepted  this  advice  from  her 
responsible  Minister.  "  0  ay  !  I'll  just  try  it.  Atweel,  I'm  thinking  it  wunna 
do  muckle  guid.  I  flang  a  kettle  o'  boiling  water  ower  him,  twice  or  mair,  an' 
he  swore  awfu.  But  I'll  try  the  het  burniri  coals."  She  did  so,  and  rested 
on  them  or  on  her  laurels. 

$crc  3£ntis  tlje  (ffiroup  of  fHatrtmom'al  anfo  Sntf=fHatn'mom'aI 


[This  rut  belongs  to  p.  159.] 



Cocfclorrel's  Strange  TBanquct. 

Patrico. — "  Coch-lorrel  he  bight,  on  a  time  did  invite 
The  Devil  to  a  feast ;  the  tail  of  the  jeast, 
Though,  since  it  be  long,  lives  yet  in  a  song  : 
Which,  if  you  would  hear, 
Shall  plainely  appeal-,  like  a  chime  in  your  ear. 
I'll  call  in  my  Clerk  shall  sing  't  like  a  Lark." 
Cock-lorrel. — "  Oh,  ay !  the  song,  the  song  in  any  case  ;  if  you  want  music, 
we'll  lend  him  our  music." 

— Masque  of  The  Gipsies  Metamorphosed.'' 

.A.  TING-  been  so  recently  admitted  along  with  the  'Wanton 
Wife  of  Bath'  into  a  better  place,  and  among  better  company  than 
she  always  kept  in  view  (even  when  she  travelled  by  the  '  Pilgrims' - 
Road'  through  Molash  towards  Canterbury  and  Thomas  a  Becket's 
Shrine),  any  ballad-lover  who  desires  a  change  of  diet  or  scene  may 
find  both  awaiting,  inside  the  Devil's  Peak  cavern,  at  Derbyshire. 
There  a  banquet  was  long  ago  prepared  for  general  or  particular 
delectation  by  Cock-Lorrel,  according  to  the  lyric  account  rendered 
by  no  less  a  person  than  "  rare  Ben  Jonson,"  in  August,  1621,  to 
amuse  the  Scottish  Solomon,  King  Jamie,  the  first  of  that  name  in 
England ;  in  compliment  to  whom  were  added  the  three  stanzas 
here  given,  from  the  12mo.  1640,  and  the  folio  edition,  1641  : 
but  they  were  not  found  in  Jonson's  autograph  MS.,  formerly 
belonging  to  Richard  Heber,  one  followed  by  that  excellent  and 
lamented  scholar  the  late  Lieut  -Col.  Francis  Cunningham  in  his 
Mermaid  Edition  of  Jonson,  iii.  156  (undated,  but  issued  in  1871)  : 

"  And  there  he  made  such  a  breach  with  the  wind, 

The  hole  too  standing  open  the  while,  ['hole  yett,'  P.  Fol. 

That  the  scent  of  the  vapour  before  and  behind 

Hath  foully  perfumed  most  part  of  the  Isle.       ['  hath  since  infected.'' 

"  And  this  was  Tobacco,  the  learned  suppose, 
Which  since  in  Country,  Court,  and  Town, 
In  the  Devil's  glister-pipe  smokes  at  the  nose, 

Of  polecat  and  Madam,  of  Gallant  and  clown.  [Of  PunJce,  Ibid. 

"  From  which  wicked  weed,  with  swine's  flesh  and  ling, 
Or  anything  else  that's  feast  for  the  Fiend  ; 
Our  Captain  and  we  cry  '  God  save  the  King,' 

And  send  him  good  meat  and  mirth  without  end  ! ' 

[We  nole  in  margin  variations  from  Percy's  Fol.  MS.,  the  end  reads  : 
"  From  which  wicked  p^fume,  swine's  flesh,  &  linge,      [ting  =  dried  cod. 
Or  any  thing  else  he  doth  not  loue, 
P/-fserue  &  send  our  gracious  King 

Such  meate  as  he  loues,  I  beseeche  god  aboue  !     Fints."] 

The  final  stanzas  were  by  Jonson,  although  himself  a  smoker: 
variations  were  introduced  during  three  successive  performances  of 
the  Masque,  to  please  King  James  (whose  aversion  from  '  swine's 
flesh,'  ling,  and  tobacco  was  proverbial,  and  who  had  published 
A  Covnter-blast  to  Tobacco,  imprinted  at  London  by  R.  B.,  1604). 

218         Cock- Lor rell's  '  Strange  Banquet '  at  the  Peak. 

The  tune  is  known  as  An  old  Man  is  a  bed  [=bag]  full  of  bones,  and  is  found 
in  many  editions  of  the  Lancing  Master,  1650  (1695,  p.  41),  etc.,  in  the  Coll.  of 
One  Hundred  and  Eighty  Loyal  Songs,  p.  103,  1685  ;  Pills  to  Purge  Melancholy, 
iv.  101,  1719  edition;  Antidote  against  Melancholy,  1749;  and  Mr.  Chappell's 
Popular  Music  of  the  Olden  Time,  p.  161.  On  our  p.  13  the  tune  was  mentioned, 
as  used  for  a  lively  ditty  concerning  Whetstone  Park  ;  to  the  same  tune  was  sung 
before  Charles  II.  at  Winchester  Tom  D'Urfey's  Loyal  Song,  beginning,  "  A 
Tory  came  late  through  Westminster- Hall,"  satirizing  Lord  Grey  of  Wark, 
Will.  Williams,  Maynard,  Patience  Ward,  Lady  Clayton,  Sir  Thomas  Player, 
and  others,  after  the  execution  of  Stephen  College,  31st  August,  1681  (given 
complete  in  our  vol.  v.  p.  335).  To  the  same  tune  went  another  Loyal  Song, 
"  The  Whigs'  Disappointment  upon  their  intended  Feast,"  prohibited,  21st  April, 
1682,  beginning,  "Have  you  not  heard  of  a  Festival  conven't  of  late?"  (given 
in  vol.  v.  p.  146).  Earlier  names  of  the  tune  were  The  Rambling  Clerk,  and,  after 
1632,  Michaelmas- Te>  me  (see  p.  221). 

In  '  Martin  Markall,  Beadle  of  Bridewell,  Ms  defence  and  Ansioere  to  the 
Belman  of  London.  Discovering  the  long  concealed  Originall  and  Regiment  of 
Rogues,''  by  S[amuel]  B[owlands],  Black-letter,  1610,  Cock-Lorrel  stands  second 
in  the  list:  "  One  Cock  Lorrell,  the  most  notorious  knave  that  ever  lived  .  .  By 
trade  he  was  a  Tinker,  often  carrying  a  pan  and  hammer  for  shew  ;  but  when  he 
came  to  a  good  booty,  he  would  cast  his  profession  into  a  ditch,  and  play  the 
Ladder. "  Again,  Cock-Lorrell  when  he  "past  through  the  town  would  cry, 
'  Ha?  ye  any  icorke  for  a  Tinker  ?  '  This  was  he  that  reduced  in[to]  forme  the 
Catalogue  of  Vagabonds  or  Quartern  of  Knaves,  called  the  five  and  twenty  Orders 
of  Knaves."  On  this  theme  we  avoid  entering,  as  to  originator  :  let  it  suffice  to 
refer  to  The  Fratemitye  of  Vacabondes  .  .  Whereuntoaho  is  adjoined  the  twentu- 
Jive  Orders  of  Luiaves  .  .  confirmed  for  euer  by  Cocke  Lorell,  1575:  a  work  of 
inestimable  interest,  duly  celebrated,  one  that  was,  along  with  A  Caueat  or 
Warening  for  Commen  Cvrsetors  vulgarely  called  Vagabones,  set  forth  by  Thomas 
Harrnan,  Esq.,  1567,  reprinted  in  1869  by  the  Early  English  Text  Society,  in 
their  admirable  Extra  Series,  No.  ix.  (Cf.  Bagford  Ballads,  pp.  190,  943-947, 
wherein  we  enjoyed  a  liberal  use  of  their  woodcut  illustrations.)  The  name  of 
Cocke  Lorrell  (like  Eclipse,  of  our  p.  83)  may  have  been  borrowed,  since  Wyukyn 
de  Worde,  so  early  as  1510,  had  printed  Cocke  Lorrell' s  Bote,  a  satire  in  verse, 
reprinted  for  the  Boxburghe  Club  in  1817 ;  in  1841  ;  and  for  the  Percy  Society, 
vol.  vi.  in  1843  (Early  English  Poetry,  ed.  E.  F.  Bimbault) :  and,  since  then, 
by  J.  P.  Edmond,  1884. 

This  is  not  the  place  or  time  to  speak  our  admiration  for  Ben  Jonson,  in  whose 
rugged  virility  we  delight,  but  whose  plays  we  read  without  their  exciting  the 
personal  love  that  is  awakened  by  the  charm  of  his  poems,  his  '  Underwoods  '  and 
lyrics.  Except  the  tombstone  of  Charles  Dickens  and  the  monument  of  '  Dan 
Chaucer,  the  first  warbler,'  there  is  no  tomb  dearer  to  us  in  Westminster  Abbey, 
not  even  "  Glorious  John's,"  or  Cowley's,  than  the  slab  which  bears  Davenanfs 
affectionate  tribute  of  "  0  rare  Ben  Jonson !  " 

[This  woodcut  belongs  to  p.  200.] 


[Roxbur^he  Coll.,  II.  445 ;  Pepys,  IV.  284  ;  Euing,  343  ;  Rawlinson,  207  ; 
Poetical  Broadsides,  C.  20,  f.  292  ;  Jersey,  II.  197  ;  Ellis.] 

21  strange  Banquet ; 

Cge  SDtfuVg  Entertainment  up  Cook  Laurel  at  t&e  Peak 
in  Derby-shire ;   toiti)   an   Account  of  tfie  0tua*al 
2Di0§t0  gcruto  to  Cault* 

To  the  Tune  oe,    Cook  Laurel,  etc. 
f^Ooh  Laurel  would  have  the  Devil  his  guest,    [»•'■  Cock  Lorreu. 

And  bid  him  home  to  the  Peak  to  dinner, 
Where  [the]  Fiend  had  never  such  a  least, 
Prepared  at  the  charge  of  a  Sinner ; 

With  a  hey  down,  down,  a  down,  doivn. 

His  stomack  was  quesie,  he  came  thither  coach'd, 

The  joggings  had  caused  his  cruets  to  rise;  [«./. crudities. 

To  help  which,  he  call'd  for  a  Puritan  poach'd, 

That  used  to  turn  up  the  eggs  of  his  eyes  ;  [<*•'•  the  white. 

With  a  hey  [down,  down,  a  down,  down].  10 

And  so  he  recovered  unto  his  wish  ; 

He  sat  him  down,  and  began  to  eat: 
A  Promoter  in  plumb-broth  was  the  first  dish, 

His  own  privy-kitchin  had  no  such  meat ;    With  a  hey,  etc. 

Yet  though  with  this  he  much  was  taken, 

Upon  a  sudden  he  shifted  his  trencher, 
As  soon  as  he  spied  the  Bawd-and-bacon ; 

(By  which  you  may  know  the  Devil's  a  "Wench er).  20 

Six  pickled  Taylors  sliced  and  cut, 

With  Sem[p]slers  and  Tire-women,  fit  for  his  pallet, 
With  Feathermen  and  Perfumers,  put 

Some  twelve  in  a  charger,  to  make  a  grand-sallet ;  With,  etc. 

A  rich  fat  Usurer  stew'd  in  his  marrow, 

With  him  a  Lawyer's  head  and  green  sawce, 
All  which  his  belly  took  in  like  a  barr[ow],  Ctext.  'barrel.* 

As  though  till  then  he  had  never  seen  sowce.  [=sowse. 

Then,  carhonado'd  and  cook'd  with  pains,  [=t>read  stuffs. 

Was  brought  up  a  Serjeant's  cloven  face; 
The  sawce  was  made  of  a  Yeoman's  brains, 

That  had  been  beaten  out  with  his  Mace.      With,  etc.         35 

Two  roasted  Sheriffs  came  whole  to  the  board, 

The  feast  had  nothing  been  without  them ; 
Both  living  and  dead  [they]  were  foxed  and  fur'd, 

And  their  chains  like  sassages  hung  about  them.      With,  etc. 

220         Coch-Lor roll's  '  Strange  Banquet '  at  the  Peak. 

The  next  dish  was  the  Mayor  of  the  Town, 

With  a  pudding  of  maintenance""  put  in  his  helly  ;  [Note.  p.  221. 
Like  a  Goose  in  her  feathers  [was  he]  in  his  gown, 

With  a  couple  of  Hinch-boys  boyl'd  to  a  jelly.      [=henchman. 

Next  came  the  over-worn  Justice-of-Peace  ; 

With  Clerks  like  gizzards  stuck  under  each  arm, 
And  warrants  like  Sippets,  lay  in  his  own  grease, 

Set  over  a  chaffing-dish  to  be  kept  warm.      With,  etc.        50 
A  London  Cuckold  came  hot  from  the  spit, 

And  when  the  Carver  had  broken  him  open, 
The  Devil  chopt  his  head  off  at  a  bit, 

But  the  Horns  had  almost  like  to  [ha']  choak'd  him. 
A  fair  large  Pasty  of  a  Midwife  hot  ;  [=a  lar&e  fat  P. 

And  for  [the]  cold  bak'd  meat  in  this  story, 
A  reverend  painted  Lady  was  brought, 

Long  coffiu'd  in  crust  till  now  she's  grown  hoary.  60 

The  loins  of  a  Letcher  then  was  roasted,  [<*•*■  chine. 

With  a  plump  Harlot's  h[aunch]  and  garlick,  ['head.' 

With  a  Pander's  petitoes  that  had  boasted 

Himself  for  a  Captain,  that  never  was  warl[ike]. 
Then,  b[r]oiled  and  stuck  upon  a  prick,  [=skewer. 

The  Gizzard  was  brought  of  a  holy  Sister; 
That  bit  made  the  Devil  almost  so  sick, 

That  the  Doctor  did  think  he  had  need  of  a  glister. 
The  Jowl  of  a  Time-server  served  for  a  fish,  ["•'■ '  Jayior.' 

A  Constable  sowced,  [stal]ed  vinegar  by ; 
Two  Aldermen-lobsters  laid  [a-sleep]  in  a  dish,  ts'r>  MS- 

A  Deputy-tart,  and  a  Church- warden-pye.  [Notes,  p.  221. 

All  which  [he]  devoured  ;  then,  for  a  close, 

He  did  for  a  draught  of  Derby  [Ale]  call ; 
He  heaved  the  vessel  up  to  his  nose, 

And  never  [it]  left  till  he  had  drank  up  all. 

Then  from  the  table  he  gave  a  start, 

AVhere  banquet  and  wine  was  not  to  seek,        [»•*•  ™f1"°thing 
All  which  he  blew  away  with  a  f  [l]art, 

Prom  whence  it's  call'd,  The  Devil's  A  .  .  e  Peak. 

With  a  hey  down,  down,  adown,  down.  [°f-  p-21'- 

[By  Ben  Jonson. 

Licens'd  and  Enter'd  according  to  Order. 

London:  Printed  by  and  for  W.  0[nley~],foTA[lexander~\3I\_ilooiirne~], 
to  be  sold  by  J.  Deacon,  at  the  Anyel  in  Guilt-spur^- street.^ 

[In  Black-letter.     One  woodcut,  of  a  Eoyal  Banquet.     Date  of  original,  1621  ; 
but  as  broadside-ballad  entered  to  Francis  Grove,  October,  1637.] 

Cock- Lorr  ell's  '  Strange  Banquet '  at  the  Peal;.        221 

Rawlinson's  exemplar  was  printed  for  jF.  Coles,  Vine-street,  Hatlon- Garden. 
Poetical  Broadsides'  was  printed  for  W.  Gilbertson,  with  two  additional  cuts,  one, 
an  Apparitor,  in  i.  119,  the  other  a  Devil.     This  text  we  follow. 

*  Note.  — '  Pudding  of  Maintenance '  may  refer  as  probably  to  the  legal  squabbles 
about  wealthy  men  backing-up  an  impecunious  plaintiff  by  maintenance,  as  it  does 
to  the  Cap  of  Maintenance  which  was  carried  before  the  Mayors  in  procession. 

***  In  the  Percy  Folio  MS.,  p.  182  (=print,  1868,  iv.  43),  after  the  '  Holy 
Sister '  of  our  stanza  fourteenth,  follow  a  variation  of  the  next  stanza  with  a 
Jaylor  in  place  of  the  Time-server,  and  an  allusion  to  some  obnoxious  '  Dean  of 
Dunstable,'  who  had  got  into  trouble  and  is  not  past  identification:  "two 
aldermen  lobsters  a-sleepe  in  a  dish,  with  a  dryed  Deputye  &  a  sowcet  Constable ;  " 
also  these  three  worse  than  doubtful  additional  stanzas,  preceding  our  sixteenth : — 
These  gott  him  soe  feirce  a  stomacke  againe, 

t[hat]  now  he  wants  meate  whereon  to  feeda  ; 
He  called  for  the  victuals  were  drest  for  bis  traine, 

and  they  brought  him  vp  an  alepotroda.      [Olla-podrida,  hotch-potch. 
"Wherein  were  mingled  courtier,  clowne, 

Tradesmen,  merchants,  banquerouts  store  ;  [  =  Bankrupts. 

Churchmen,  Lawyers  of  either  gowne — 

Of  ciuill  [and]  common  [Law], — player  and  whore. 

Countess,  servant,  Ladye's  woman,  [Surely  not  Jonson's. 

Mistress,  chambermaid,  coachman,  knight, 
Lord  and  vsher,  groome  and  yeoman  : 

Where  first  the  Feend  with  his  forke  did  light. 

All  which  devowred,  he  now  for  to  close,  etc.         [as  on  p.  220,  ante] 

As  "  a  Song  on  the  Devil's  A  .  .  e  of  the  Peak  :  by  Ben  Jonson,"  it  is  not 
given  by  Dryden  in  his  Miscellaneous  Poems,  8vo.,  but  was  added  in  1716,  to 
vol.  ii.  p.  142  of  the  small  six  vol.  edition,  19  stanzas.  It  had  also  been  in  the 
1671  New  Academy  of  Complements,  p.  269  ;  and  Wit  and  Mirth,  p.  54,  1684. 
The  ordinal  succession  of  stanzas  varies  in  the  versions. 

The  clever  satire  of  '  Michaelmas  Term,'1  probably  by  Martin  Parker  (reprinted 
in  Bagford  Ballads,  pp.  401-406,  970,  971),  was  sung  to  the  tune  of  The  Rambling 
Clerk,  which  was  the  same  as  this  one  called  Cooke  Lnurell.  '  Michaelmas  Term  ' 
was  entered  as  a  ballad  to  John  Wright,  etc.,  in  the  Stationers'  Registers,  iv.  273, 
July,  1632-1633.  Another  by  Martin  Parker,  viz.  "  A  Bill  of  Fare"  (entered  to 
Francis  Grove,  Oct.,  1637  ;  reprinted  in  Roxb.  Ballads,  i.  70),  to  the  same  tune. 


[Roxb.  Coll.,  II.  172,  III.  346  ;  Bagford,  II.  129  ;  Pepvs,  III.  145  ;  Rawl.,  63, 
168  ;  Huth,  I.  117;  Wood,  E.  25,  fol.  86  ;  Douce,  I."  85  ;  Jersey,  I.  294.] 

Ci)e  jfrper  toell  jfitteti ; 

a  pvtttp  Jest  ti&at  once  fofctt, 

^oto  a  #nio  put  a  j*cpcr  to  cool  in  tgc  S2MI. 

To  a  Metiry  Tune.     [See  Note  on  p.  224.] 

AS  I  lay  musing  all  alone,  fa,  la,  la,  la,  la, 
A  pritty  jest  I  thought  upon,/«,  la,  la,  la,  la  ; 
Then  listen  a  while,  and  I  will  you  tell 
Of  a  Fryer  that  lov'd  a  bonny  Lass  well  : 
fa,  la,  la,  la,  la,  fa,  la,  la,  lang-tre-down-a-dilly .  [pas»im. 

He  came  to  the  Maid  when  she  went  to  bed,  fa  la,  etc. 

Desiring  to  have  her  ni;iiden-head,  fa  la,  etc. ; 

But  she  denyed  [him]  his  desire, 

And  told  him  that  she  fear'd  Hell  Fire,  fa  la,  etc. 

"  Tush  !  "  (quoth  the  Fryer)  "thou  need'st  not  doubt  [etc.], 
If  thou  wert  in  Hell  I  could  sing  thee  out :  " 
"  Then"  (quoth  the  Maid)  "  thou  shalt  have  thy  request." 
The  Fryer  was  glad,  as  a  fox  in  his  nest :  fa  la,  etc.  15 

The  Friar  well-fitted,  by  the  Maid.  223 

"  But  one  thing"  (quoth  she)  "  I  do  desire,  fa  la,  etc., 
Before  you  have  what  you  require,  fa  la,  etc. ; 
Before  that  you  shall  do  the  thing, 
An  Angel  of  money  thou  shalt  me  bring,"  fa  la,  etc. 

"  Tush  !  "  (quoth  the  Fryer)  "  we  shall  agree,  fa  la,  etc., 
No  money  shall  part  my  Love  and  me,  fa  la,  etc.  ; 
Before  that  1  will  see  thee  lack, 
I'll  pawn  my  grey  Gown  from  my  back,"/«  la,  etc. 

The  Maid  bethought  her  of  a  wile, 
How  she  the  Fryer  might  beguile,  fa  la,  etc. ; 
"While  he  was  gone,  the  truth  to  tell, 
She  hung  a  cloth  before  the  well ; 
fa,  la,  la,  la,  la,  fa,  la,  la,  lang-tree-down-dilly.  30 

The  Fryer  came,  as  his  covenant  was,  fa  la,  etc. 

"With  money  to  his  bonny  Lass,  fa  la,  etc.  ; 

"  Good-morrow,  fair  Maid  !  "  "  Good-morrow  !  "  (quoth  she). 

"  Here  is  the  money  I  promised  thee,"/«  la,  etc. 

She  thankt  the  man,  and  she  took  his  mon[e]v, 

"  JSTow  let  us  go  too't !  "  (quoth  he)  "  sweet  Honey." 

li  Oh  stay  "  (quoth  she)  "  some  Respite  make, 

My  Father  comes,  [and]  he  will  me  take,"/«  la,  etc. 

"  Alas  !  "  (quoth  the  Fryer)  "  where  shall  I  run, 

To  hide  me  till  that  he  be  gone  ?  " 

"  Behind  the  cloth,  run  thou !  "  (quoth  she), 

"  And  there  my  Father  cannot  thee  see,  fa  la,  etc.  45 

Behind  the  cloth  the  Fryer  crept, 

And  into  the  well  on  a  sudden  he  leapt. 

"  Alas  !  "  (quoth  he)  "I  am  in  the  Well." 

"  No  matter  "  (quoth  she)  "  if  thou  wert  in  Hell,  fa  la,  etc. 

"  Thou  say'st  thou  could'st  sing  me  out  of  Hell, 

Kow  prithee  sing  thy  self  out  of  the  Well." 

The  Fryer  sung  on,  with  a  pittiful  sound, 

"  Oh !  help  me  out,  or  I  shall  be  drown'd,"/«  la,  etc. 

"  I  trow  "  (quoth  she)  "  your  courage  is  cool'd." 

(Quoth  the  Fryer)  "  I  never  was  so  fool'd  ;  " 

"  I  never  was  served  so  before  !  " 

"  Then  take  heed"  (quoth  she)  "  thou  com'st  there  no  more." 

(Quoth  he)  "For  sweet  Saint  Francis1  sake, 

Ou  his  Disciple  some  pitty  take  !  " 

(Quoth  she)  "  Saint  Francis  never  taught 

His  scholars  to  tempt  young  Maids  to  naught."  65 

The  Fryer  did  intreat  her  still, 

That  she  would  help  him  out  of  the  well ; 

She  heard  him  make  such  piteous  moan, 

She  help'd  him  out,  and  bid  him  be  gone,  fa  la,  etc. 

224  The  Friar  ic/io  did  not  let  Well  alone. 

(Quoth  he)  "  Shall  I  have  ray  money  again, 
Which  from  me  thou  hast  before-hand  ta'ne  ?  " 
"Good  sir"  (said  she)  "there's  no  such  matter; 
I'le  make  you  pay  for  fouling  my  water,"  fa  la,  etc. 
The  Fryer  went  all  along  the  street, 
Dropping  wet,  like  a  new-wash'd  sheep,  fa  la,  etc. 
Both  Old  and  Young  commended  the  Maid, 
That  such  a  witty  prank  had  plaid  ; 
fa,  la,  la,  la,  la,  fa,  la,  la,  Ian  g-tre-doivn-rf  illy .  80 


Printed  for  W.  Thackeray  and  T.  Passinger. 

[Black-letter.  Four  cuts,  the  two  on  p.  222;  ladies,  iii.  418,  left,  and  iii. 
646,  right.  Second  Roxburghe,  "  Printed  and  sold  in  Aldermary  Church- 
yard, London."  "We  suppose  the  date  of  the  original  ballad  to  have  been 
earlier  than  the  1st  of  June,  1629,  at  which  time  (in  the  Stationers'  Registers, 
D.  fol.  179=  Transcript,  iv.  213),  amon^  other  '  ballades '  was  entered  to  John 
Wright,  John  Grismond,  Cuthbert  Wright,  Edward  "Wright,  Henry  Gosson, 
and  Francis  Coules,  partners,  "  As  I  lay  musing,"  the  property  of  the  Widow 
Trundle.  Hence  it  was  of  still  earlier  date  :  unless  the  entry  refers  to  the 
'Life  of  Man,'  (2),  and  not  to  this  '  Fryer  in  the  Well ; '  for"  the  same  first 
line  belongs  to  several  other  ballads,  viz.  1.  — The  Shepherd's  Lamentation  for 
his  Phil/is;  "  2.—  Richard  Crimsall's  "Life  of  Man"  (Roxb.  Bd^.,  i.  142)  ; 
3.— "The  Poor  Man  pays  for  All"  {Ibid.,  ii.  334);  4.—"  Even  in  the 
Twinkling  of  an  Eye"  (to  be  reprinted  in  Religions  Group).  A  modern  Scotch 
imitation, beginning.  "  0  listen,  and  I  will  you  tell,  «i'  a  fnlaldirry,  falaldirry, 
How  a  friar  in  love  wi'  a  lassie  fell,"  etc.,  is  in  R.  Kinlock's  Ballad  Book,  1827. 
Compare  Skelton's  '  Colyn  Chute,'  v.  879.  Both  of  the  cuts  on  p.  222  were 
mutilated.  (As  to  original  of  the  Friar,  see  a  later  complete  picture,  and 
vi.  597.)  The  girl  with  feather-fan  had  belonged,  like  the  Haberdasher 
holding  a  mask  on  p.  168,  to  a  civil-war  pamphlet  of  October,  1656,  entitled 
'Here's  Jock  in  the  Box!'  wherein  her  right  foot  is  propt  on  a  barrel. 
Cf.  vi.  329.  Bagford's  exemplar,  printed  for  W.  Onley,  sold  by  /.  Walter,  has 
two  cuts:   1st,  the  man  of  ii.  348  ;  2nd,  the  lady  of  our  p.  122.] 

*#*  That  this  '  Pretty  Jest '  appeared  in  its  early  version  previous  to  1597  is 
shown  by  a  quotation  given  by  Mr.  William  Chappell  (Popular  Music,  pp.  273, 
274,   where  the  music  will  be  found),  from  Anthony  Munday's  "  Downfall  of 
Robert,  Earl  of  Huntington,"  of  that  date.    In  answer  to  Little  John's  complaints 
of  "  no  jests  of  Robin  Hood,  no  merry  morrices  of  Friar  Tuck,"  being  introduced, 
he  is  answered  that  these  have  been  shown  before,  such  as 
"  How  the  Friar  fell  into  the  Well, 
For  love  of  Jenny,  that  fair  bonny  belle." 
Since  the  tune  is  named  in  The  Dancing  Master,  from  1650  to  1686,  '  The  Moid 
peept  out  of  the  Windoiv,  or  the  Frier  in  the  Well,  we  are  entitled  to  believe  that 
the  former  mav  have  been  the  opening  line  of  an  earlier  version. 

The  wiser  among  us  have  learnt  to  distrust  many  such  lampoons  on  the  Friars 
and  Monks  of  old,  yet  the  Friars  with  their  wanderings  to  collect  alms  and 
provant  were  the  likelier  men  to  get  into  irregularities  or  immoralities  than 
resident  monks.  The  more  the  truth  is  revealed  concerning  the  early  visitation 
of  the  Monasteries,  as  in  the  publications  of  our  Camden  Society,  the  better  we 
can  estimate  the  baselessness  of  the  wholesale  charges  of  corruption,  or  the 
scandalous  exaggerations,  of  the  political  wire-pullers  who  were  greedy  for  plunder 
of  the  fore-doomed  Monasteries,  under  the  bloodthirsty  tyrant  and  voluptuary 
('  which  nobody  can  deny  '—except  Froude)  Henry  the  Eighth. 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  554;  Pepys,  III.  269;  Jersey,  III.  76.] 

UnconsctonableBatcIjelors  of  Darby. 


9Ef)c  gating  Masses  Paum"o  fig  tftetr  &uKet=hearts,  far  a  larrre 
Sfochnmn;,  at  Nottingham  ffiaase=JFatr;  inhere  poor  Susan  toag 
forced  to  pag  the  Shot. 

To  the  Tuxe  of,  To  thee,  to  thee,  etc.     [See  Notes,  pp.  227,  239.] 

YOu  lovers  of  mirth,  attend  a  while, 
A  merry  new  Ditty  here  I  write ; 
I  know  it  will  make  you  laugh  and  smile, 
For  every  line  affords  delight : 

The  Lasses  of  Darby,  with  young  men,  &■«  ot  Nottingham? 
They  went  to  Goose-fair  for  recreation, 
But  how  these  Sparks  did  serve  them  then, 
Is  truly  worth  your  observation, 

Truly,  truly,  worth  your  observation. 

Therefore  I  pray  observe  this  Ditty ; 

The  Maids  did  complain  they  came  there  in  vain, 

And  was  not,  was  not  that  a  pity  f  12 

So  soon  as  they  came  into  the  Fair, 

The  Batchelors  made  them  conjues  low,  [=cong<?es. 

And  bid  them  a  thousand  welcomes  there  ; 

This  done,  to  a  tippling-school  they  go  : 

How  pleasant  was  honest  Kate  and  Sue? 

Believing  they  should  be  richly  treated  ; 

But,  Neighbours  and  Friends,  as  I  am  true, 

No  Lasses  euer  was  so  cheated, 

Cheated,  cheated,  very  fa[i]rely  cheated, 

As  you  may  note  by  this  new  Ditty ; 

They  were  left  alone  to  make  their  moan, 

And  was  not,  was  not  that  a  pity  ?  24 

The  innocent  Lasses,  fair  and  gay, 

Concluded  the  Men  was  kind  and  free, 

Because  they  pass'd  the  time  away, 

A  plentv  of  cakes  and  ale  they  see ; 

For  [Cy]der  and  bread  they  then  did  call,  [fe*'.  'sider-' 

And  whatever  else  the  House  afforded ; 

But  Susan  was  forc'd  to  pay  for  all, 

Out  of  the  mon[e]y  she  had  hoarded, 

VOL.    Vtl.  'l 

226  The  Unconscionable  Bachelors  of  Derby. 

Hoarded,  hoarded,  mon[c]y  she  had  hoarded  ; 

It  made  her  sing  a  doleful  Ditty, 

And  so  did  the  rest,  with  grief  opprest, 

And  was  not,  was  not  that  a  pity  f  36 

Young  Katy  she  seemed  something  coy, 
Because  she  would  make  them  eager  grow, 
As  knowing  therehy  she  might  enjoy 
What  beautiful  Damsels  long  to  know  : 
On  complements  they  did  not  stand, 
Nor  did  they  admire  their  charming  features, 
For  they  had  another  game  in  hand, 
Which  was  to  pawn  those  pretty  Creatures ; 
Creatures,  creatures,  loving,  loving  creatures, 
"Which  was  so  charming,  fair,  and  pretty  ; 
The  Men  sneak'd  away,  and  nothing  did  pay, 
And  loas  not,  tvas  not  that  a  pity  ?  48 

Though  out  of  the  door  they  [departe]d  first, 

And  left  them  tippling  there  behind  ;  [text, '  enter'd.' 

Those  innocent  Maids  did  not  mistrust 

That  Batchelors  could  be  so  unkind. 

Quoth  Susan,  "  I  know  they're  gone  to  buy 

The  fairings  which  we  did  so  require ;  lQf-  p-  no- 

And  they  will  return  I  know,  for  why, 

They  do  our  youthful  charms  admire ; 

Therefore,  therefore,  stay  a  little  longer, 

And  I  will  sing  a  pleasant  Ditty ;  " 

But  when  they  found  they  were  catch'd  in  the  pound, 

They  sigKd  and  weep'd,  the  move's  the  pity.  60 

Now  finding  the  Men  return'd  no  more, 

And  that  the  good  [Inn-]people  would  not  trust, 

They  presently  call'd  to  know  the  score, 

It  chanc'd  to  be  fifteen  shilling  just : 

Poor  Kate  had  but  five  pence  in  her  purse, 

But  Sue  had  a  crown,  besides  a  guinney  ; 

And  since  the  case  had  happen'd  thus, 

Poor  Soul,  she  paid  it  e'ry  penny  ; 

Penny,  penny,  e'ry,  e'ry  penny, 

Tho'  with  a  sad  and  doleful  ditty ; 

Said  she,  "  For  this  I  had  not  a  kiss, 

And  tvas  not,  tvas  not  that  a  pity  ?  "  72 

Printed  for  J.  Bissel,  in  West-Smithfield. 

[In  Black-letter.     Three  woodcuts.     1st,  new,  a  woman  and  man  walking,  like 
reverse  of  p.  231  ;  2nd,  lady,  of  iii.  377  ;  3rd,  is  on  p.  103.     Date,  1685-95.] 

The  Unconscionable  Bachelors  of  Nottingham.        227 

***  We  identify  the  tune  named,  To  thee,  to  thee  .'  from  the  burden  of  a  ballad, 
'  The  Merry  Bagpipes,'  "A  Shepherd  sat  him  under  a  Thorn"  (see  p.  239).  ( 

It  was  shabby  of  the  "  Nottingham  lambs  "  to  serve  Katy  and  Susan  thus,  not 
only  to  disappoint  but  to  bilk  them,  leaving  them  to  pay  the  reckoning.  What 
they  were,  when  they  by  their  rioting  frightened  to  death  Byron's  Mary  Chaworth 
(  =  Mrs.  Musters),  by  attacking  Colwick  Hall  in  February,  1832,  such  had  they 
been  of  old  :  incapable  of  improvement.     A  bad  lot,  egg  and  bird. 

It  may  be  pleaded  that  the  culprits  in  the  ballad  are  styled  "  Batchelors  of 
Derby,"  and  that  they  only  ivent  to  Nottingham,  thirteen  miles  distant,  along 
with  their  beguiled  sweethearts.  Stuff  and  nonsense  !  The  men's  baptismal - 
registers  would  prove  that  they  had  originally  belonged  to  Nottingham ;  but, 
while  at  home  there,  having  misbehaved  too  badly  even  for  the  code  of  '  geese ' 
and  'lambs,'  they  had  been  forced  to  emigrate  into  honest  Derbyshire,  and 
tried  to  pass  themselves  off  as  natives.  Their  tricks  betray  their  birth-place. 
We  leave  the  Onus  probandi  with  gainsayers  to  bring  forth  a  Darbyshire  register 
in  attestation.  (The  fact  is  they  were  only  "  half- named  "  and  half-saved,  but 
never  christened  anywhere.)  One  of  them  was  hanged  at  Nottingham,  luckily, 
and  that  ought  to  strengthen  the  evidence  and  absolve  Derbyshire.  It  sustains 
the  burden  of  the  Peak,  with  its  Devil  (p.  219),  counter-balaiiced  by  Peveril  and 
the  heroic  Charlotte  de  Tremouille.     "  Bachelors  of  Derby,"  indeed  ! 

From  Nottingham  Goose-Fair  (held  on  first  Thursday  in  October,  and  two 
days  after)  we  come  in  the  next  ballad  to  Smithfield's  Bartholomew  Fair  (held 
early  in  September,  generally  on  the  5th).  In  Roxb.  Ballads,  vol.  hi.  p.  492, 
was  reprinted  "  My  Masters  and  Friends  and  good  people  draw  near  !  "  being 
Ben  Jonsou's  '  Song  of  the  Cut-purse,'  who  exercised  his  vocation  at  Bartholomew 
Fair,  and  the  whole  of  the  racy  comedy  bearing  that  title  gives  a  lively  panorama 
of  the  scene  as  it  was  beheld  in  1614.  To  Francis  Grove,  on  21st  August, 
1638,  was  entered  in  Stat.  Registers  a  ballad  on  "  Bartholomew  Fair,"  and  on 
23rd  September,  1639,  to  Richard  Harper  "A  Bartholomew  Fairing."  "The 
Dagoi/izing  of  Bartholomew  Fayre,  caused  by  the  Lord  Maior's  command,"  circa 
1656,  begins,  "  On  August's  foure  and  twentieth  Eve."  One  Zommersetshire 
yokel  came,  in  1655,  to  see  the  sight,  before  Sir  John  Dethic  '  reformed '  it. 

[Wit  and  Mirth,  p.  171,  1700  edition;  with  music,  Pills,  iv.  p.  109.] 

Slit  Ancient  Scmg  of  BartfjolomEto  jFair. 

N  'Fifty-five,  may  I  never  thrive,  if  I  tell  you  any  more  than  is  true, 

To  London  che  came,  hearing  of  the  fame  of  a  Fair  they  call  Bartholomew. 

In  Houses  of  Boards,  men  walk  upon  cords,  as  easy  as  Squirrels  crack  filberds  ; 
But  the  Cut-purses  they  do  bite  and  run  away,  but  those  I  suppose  are  Ill-Birds. 

For  a  Penny  you  may  zee  a  fine  Puppet-play,  and  for  two-pence  a  rare  work  of  Art ; 
And  a  penny  a  cann ;  I  dare  swear,  a  man  may  put  zix  of  'em  into  a  Quart. 

Their  zights  are  so  rich,  is  able  to  bewitch  the  heart  of  a  very  fine  man-a ; 
Here's  1'atient  Grisel  here,  and  Fair  Rosamond  there,  and  the  History  of  Susanna. 

At  Pye-corner  end,  mark  well  my  good  Friend,  'tis  a  very  fine  dirty  place, 
Where  there's  more  Arrows  and  Bows,  the  Lord  above  knows,  than  was  handled 

at  Chtvy-Chase. 
At  every  door  [waits]  a  Hag  or  [a  sc]ore,  and  in  Hosier-lane,  if  I  a'nt  mistaken, 
Zuch  plenty  there  are,  of  w  —  es,  you'll  have  a  pair,  to  a  single  Gammon  of  Bacon. 

Then  at  Smithfield-Bars,  'twixt  the  ground  and  the  stars,  there's  a  place  they 

call  Shoe-makers' -Row, 
Where  you  may  buy  Shoes  every  day,  or  go  bare-foot  all  the  year  I  trow. 




Cbc  (Unfortunate  *Lot>ct% 

"  My  Love  sleeps  on  another  man's  pillow." — The  Willow  Green  ballad. 

[This  woodcut  belongs  to  pp.  175,  204,  229,  etc.] 

J.HE  Merry-Andrew  of  this  hallad  would  find  Joan  return  to  him— possibly. 
But  how  if  she  were  the  '  very  identical  Joan '  of  our  p.  162,  who  told  a  John  to 
"Rock  the  Cradle"?  Did  she  (finding  that  a  faux  pas  on  her  part  had  not 
spoilt  Merry-Andrew's  confidence  in  her  affection  and  trustworthiness)  throw 
away  such  a  devoted  and  easy  lover,  and  go  off  to  find  another  in  the  aforesaid 
John  ?  Were  there  actually  two  such  easy  men  in  the  nation  simultaneously  ? 
It  is  a  queer  world,  and  anything  is  credible.  But  supposing  that  John  had 
been  generally  known  as  Merry-Andrew,  are  we  re-uniting  the  scattered  links  of 
the  chain  ?  Dates  are  against  the  supposition,  1636  and  1670-76  :  forty  years  ! 
%*  We  have  no  wish  to  press  hard  judicially  on  any  Joan  of  the  lot.  In  such 
cases  of  doubtful  parentage  there  are  always  "Two  Knaves  and  a  Fool."  [By 
the  way  :  a  certain  admirer  of  Jean  Middlem ass's  novel,  thus  named,  ought  not 
to  have  asked  for  it  so  bluntly  across  the  counter  of  the  three  excellent  librarians 
whom  we  know  in  London,  "Have  you  Two  Knaves  and  a  Fool  here?"  It 
Bounded  badly.  He  might  well  add,  as  he  did,  "  I  ought  to  get  '  Five  Years 
Penal  Servitude,''  I  have  tried  for  it  so  long."  Another  person,  a  lady,  com- 
plained to  them  :  "You  promised  me  '  Two  Kisses,'  yet  I  have  never  had  them  !  " 
But  she  only  meant  Hawley  Smart's  book.]  We  "feel  so  kindly  towards  Mary 
Moders,  alias  Mary  Carleton,  alias  '  The  German  Princess,'  that  we  opportunely 
add,  on  p.  230,  her  "  Westminster-Wedding  Epithalamium  "  (already  promised 
on  p.  63).  Whatever  may  have  been  Mary's  faults,  or  Joan's,  the  prevalence  of 
such  loose  fish  as  "  Unconstant  William,"  who  avowed  his  "  Resolution  to  pay 
the  young  Lasses  in  their  own  Coin"  (see  p.  231),  yields  some  justification. 
Mary's  husband,  John  Carleton,  was  no  whit  better  than  this  roving  libertine. 


[Roxb.  Coll.,  II.  555  ;  Pepys,  III.  96  ;  Douce,  II.  235  verso;  Jersey,  I.  118.] 

Ci)e  Unfortunate  JLotier ; 


Merry  Andrew's  gao  anD  toofull  ^Lamentation  for  tlje 
1LO00  of  Jji0  Stotctgeart  Joan. 

To  the  Tune  of,  I  [_Ay~\  marry,  and  thank  ye  too.     [See  p.  112.] 
Licensed  according  to  Order. 

A  Las  !  I  am  come  to  Town,  and  here  make  pitifull  moan, 
For  having  rambled  up  and  down,  canH  find  out  my  true  Love  Joan. 

I  came  to  Bartholomew  Pair,  and  search'd  that  place  alone, 
Expecting  to  have  found  her  there,  my  delicate  Sweetheart  Joan. 

I  am  in  a  pitifull  case,  and  shall  be  overthrown, 

I  have  made  many  a  sowre  face,  for  want  of  my  true  Love  Joan. 

In  bed  I  can  take  no  rest,  but  tumble  and  toss  alone, 

A  thousand  torments  in  my  breast  for  want  of  my  Sweetheart  Joan. 

To  love  I  am  so  enclin'd,  and  daily  do  make  sad  moan, 

And  quite  distracted  in  my  mind,  for  want  of  my  true  Love  Joan. 

She's  as  sweet  as  a  sucking-pig,  for  her  I  do  make  my  moan  ; 
I  long  to  dance  the  Wedding-Jig  along  ivith  my  Sweetheart  Joan. 

I  wander  the  silent  Grove,  and  make  most  piteous  moan, 

I  am  over  head  and  ears  in  love,  and  all  for  my  Sweetheart  Joan. 

For  she  was  as  sweet  a  bit  as  ever  by  me  was  known, 

Her  precious  smiles  I  can't  forget,  oh,  where  is  my  Sweetheart  Joan  ? 

Her  lips  they  were  cherry-red,  she  had  but  one  fault  alone, 
A  little  child  e'er  she  was  wed,  my  delicate  Sweetheart  Joan. 

I  like  her  never  the  worse,  the  child's  a  Champion  grown, 

By  being  well  brought  up  at  Nurse,  but  where  is  my  Sweetheart  Joan  ? 

To  speak  of  her  Beauty  bright,  there  hardly  is  such  a  one. 

Her  pleasant  charms  do's  dim  my  sight,  my  delicate  Sweetheart  Joan. 

At  once  she  looks  North  and  South,  her  Beauty  I  needs  must  own, 
She  has  a  pretty  sparrow's  Mouth,  my  delicate  Sweetheart  Joan. 

Her  pretty  sweet  Beetle-brow,  but  teeth  she  has  not  one  ; 
She  is  as  slender  as  a  cow,  my  delicate  Sweetheart  Joan. 

Her  hair's  as  black  as  a  cole,  for  her  I  do  make  sad  moan, 

1  fear  some  Lord  or  Earl  has  stole  my  delicate  Siveetheart  Joan. 

Printed  for  P.  Brooksby,  J.  Deacon,  J.  Blare,  J.  Back. 

[Black-letter.     Cuts:   1st,  lady,  p.  203;  2nd,  man,  p.  31;   3rd,  p.  228.     Date, 

circa  1685.] 


[Douce  Collection,  II.  253  verso.     Apparently  unique.] 

Cl)e  aaiestmtnster  JKUeDMng ; 

£Dr,  Cad^ton's  CBpitgalamtum* 

To  the  Tune  of,   The  Spanish  Lady.     [See  vol.  vi.  p.  655.] 

WILL  you  hear  a  German  Princesse,  how  she  chous'd  an  English 
"Whose  fair  Language  still  convinces  all  who  dare  believe  her  word, 
That  she  was  no  Fitter's  Childe,  or  base-lorn  brat, 
But  by  birth  and  parentage  the  Lord  knows  what ! 

Deckt  she  was  with  many  a  Jewell,  that  was  currant  in  the  Dark  ; 
Nay,  her  very  looks  were  fuell  to  enflame  a  Puny- Clark. 

Besides  she  had  a  vast  estate  beyond  the  Seas, 

Which  his  young  Lordship  may  find  out  e'ne  where  he  please. 
He  could  strut  like  Crow  in  Gutter,  or  like  Ape  in  Pantaloon, 
And  had  wit  enough  to  stutter  Complements  beyond  the  Moon  ; 

He  was  Lord,  and  she  teas  Priucesse,  for  a  space, 

But  he  had  quickly  lost  his  Honour,  s'hee  her  Grace. 

Xe're  was  such  a  sal  Indenture  by  unhappy  Scribe  ingrost, 
Who  to  Colen  sent  Adventure,  but  we  hear  the  Ship  is  lost ; 
For  at  Church  light  Barllemew  he  played  the  Cokes, 
Married,  went  to  bed,  and  did  like  other  folkes. 

3Tfje  Scccrno  ^part,  To  the  same  Tune. 

Both  grew  big  with  Expectation,  his  rich  hopes  did  spread  their  sale; 

Till  he  heard  a  sad  relation,  a  strange  Canterbury  Tale, 
That  he  had  espous'd  a  Cheat,  a  mere  Trapan, 
Which  made  the  Bridegroom  sigh  and  stink,  like  Alderman. 

Then  ("through  Father  Carletorts  fury)  shee  to  Newgate  was  preferr'd, 

Where  by  honour'd  Court  &  Iury  both  her  Charge  &  Crime  was  heard, 
But  she,  by  her  ingenious  Plea,  scap'd  Hang -mart's  hands, 
Being  Mistresse  of  more  languages  than  she  tvas  of  Bands. 

Think  ye,  Sirs,  was't  not  a  bold  one,  of  a  Canterbury  Lasse, 
Thus  to  over-reach  the  old  one,  and  to  prove  the  Derill  an  Asse  ? — 

But  {mean  while)  how  did  the  poor  Scrivener  play  the  Peast, 

Who  ivas  but  lately  in  conceit  a  Duke  at  least  ? 

Farewell,    Princesse,    Lord   and    Foot-boys;    farewell    Coach   and 
Flanders  Horse  ; 

Jack  and  Gill  must  now  go  to  't,  boys,  either  work,  or  else  doe  worse ; 
And  with  their  Scribling  trade  begin  the  World  agen  : 
For  she  has  got  nought  but  an  Inkhorn,  he  a  Pen. 

Jim's.     London,  Printed  for  S.B.  1663. 

[White -letter.    No  woodcut.    Date,  as  above,  1G63.    Compare  pp.  63,  228.] 


[Pepys  Collection,  V.  156  ;  Jersey,  I.  31  ;   C.  22.  e.  2,  fol.  31.] 

an  anstoet  to  Onconstant  COiUtam. 

)r,  Wnz  $oung=man's  Kcsolutton  to  pag  t^e  ^ounfl  Hasscs  in 
tfjeir  oton  dTom.     [See  pp.  200,  228.] 
Tune  is,  Sere  I  love,  there  I  love.     Licensed  according  to  Order. 


I  Am  a  brisk  Batchelor,  airy  and  young, 
Who  courts  the  young  Maids  with  a  flatt'ring  tongue  ; 
I  kiss  and  I  squeeze  them  agen  and  agen, 
And  vow  I  will  Marry,  but  I  know  not  when. 
There's  Bridget  and  Susan,  young  Nancy  and  Nell, 
To  each  of  these  Lasses  fine  stories  I  tell ; 
Soft  kisses  I  give  them,  a  hundred  and  ten, 
And  vow  I  will  Marry,  but  I  know  not  ivhen. 

Sometimes  to  the  Tavern  with  Betty  I  go, 
And  like  a  true  Lover  much  kindness  I  show  ; 
I  kiss,  nay  I  hugg,  and  I  cuddle  her  then, 
And  vow  I  will  Marry,  but  I  know  not  when. 

Sometimes  a  young  Widow  I  happen  to  meet, 

I  tell  her  with  smiles  that  her  joys  I'le  compleat, 

If  she  has  much  Treasure,  I'le  to  woo  now  and  then  ;     [scarcely  legible. 

And  vow  I  will  Marry,  bid  I  know  not  when.  16 

So  long  as  she  lin[k]s  me  with  Silver  and  Gold, 
A  thousand  sweet  Charms  in  her  eyes  I  behold ; 
I  kiss  and  I  hugg,  and  make  much  of  her  then, 
And  vow  I  will  Marry,  but  I  know  not  when. 

So  soon  as  her  Treasure  begins  to  decay, 

I  think  it  high  time  to  be  packing  away, 

Now  if  she  calls  after  me,  I  answer  then, 

That  we  ivill  be  Marry'd,  but  I  know  not  when.  24 

Last  week  I  did  walk  to  the  Royal  Exchange, 
And  there  amongst  Ladies  my  fancy  did  range, 
I  singled  out  one,  and  I  promis'd  her  then, 
That  we  would  be  Marry'd,  but  I  know  not  when. 

232  An  Answer  to  '  Uncomtant  William.' 

Lac'd  Cravats  and  Ruffles  as  presents  she  gave, 

To  deck  her  young  Lover  both  gallant  and  brave ; 

With  large  protestations  I  prorais'd  her  then, 

That  we  would  be  Marry1  d,  but  I  know  not  when.  32 

She  came  to  my  Chamber  one  night  and  no  more, 
I  taught  her  a  Dance  which  she  ne'r  knew  before  ; 
Now  this  being  ended,  I  promis'd  her  then, 
That  we  would  be  Marnfd,  but  I  know  not  when. 

1  scorn  the  lewd  Harlots  that  trade  up  and  down, 

To  pick  up  a  Living  all  over  the  Town  ; 

I  have  pretty  Lasses  full  threescore  and  ten, 

To  whom  I  vow'd  Marriage,  but  I  know  not  when.  40 

To  sixteen  young  Chamber-maids  love  I  express, 
Who  goes  in  their  Towers,  that  delicate  dress ; 
Love-Letters  and  Sonnets  to  them  I  do  pen, 
And  sivear  I  will  Marry,  but  I  know  not  when. 

There's  twenty  young  Nursery-maids  in  the  Strand, 

Who  every  minute  are  at  my  command  ; 

But  here  I  live  merrily,  telling  'em  then, 

That  I  will  be  Marry' d,  but  I  know  not  when.  48 

Each  pritty  fae'd  Creature,  it's  very  well  known, 

Will  think  her  self  blest  to  have  [m]e  of  her  own,  [text  '  one.' 

At  which,  in  saluting,  I  answer' d  'em  then, 

That  ice  will  be  Marry 'd,  but  I  know  not  when. 

Sometimes  from  the  City  of  London  I  ride, 

Through  many  fair  Counties  to  seek  me  a  Bride ; 

The  Country  pritty  Girls  I  cuddle  then, 

And  swear  I 'will  Marry,  but  I  know  not  when.  56 

If  any  one  has  a  desire  to  know 
What  may  be  the  reason  I  baffle  them  so, 
Young  W  omen  are  seven  times  falser  than  Men  ; 
Therefore  I  will  Marry,  but  I  know  not  when. 

I  once  lov'd  a  Damsel  as  dear  as  my  life, 
I  wood  her,  and  thought  to  have  made  her  my  Wife  ; 
But  she  prov'd  a  Wanton  to  all  sorts  of  Men, 

Therefore  I  will  Marry,  but  I  know  not  when.  64 

Printed  for  C.  Bates,  next  door  to  the  Crown  Tavern  in  West- Smith-field. 
[Black-letter.    Two  woodcuts:  1st,  on  p.  231;  2nd,  girl,  p.  196  r.  Date,  c.  1685.] 


E\)t  Kortfjcrn  ©ittrj  of  &0I0  ano  &ato. 

E  give  not  only  Tom  D'Urfey's  original  Cold  and  Raw  (see  pp.  210,  211), 
but  also  the  Second,  Third,  and  Fourth  Parts,  now  first  re-collected. 

To  the  same  tune  named  Cold  and  Raw  was  sung  a  libellous  ballad  (Roxb. 
Coll.,  II.  282,  uureprinted),  "The  Lusty  Fryer  of  Flanders,  how  in  a  Nunnery 
at  the  City  of  Gaunt  [Ghent],  this  Fryer  got  thirty  nuns  with  child  in  three 
Aveeks  time,  and  afterwards  made  his  escape."  It  was  printed  for  J.  Blare,  dated 
lti88  [168-g-],  nine  stanazas,  an  anti-Romanist  calumny,  issued  by  Revolutionists  : 

"  Not  long  ago  from  hence  I  went  to  travel  into  Flanders, 

To  learn  the  art  of  war,  was  sent  under  those  great  Commanders  ; 
At  Gaunt  I  saw  a  pleasant  fun,  as  you  shall  hear  hereafter, 
Betwixt  a  Fryar  and  a  Nun.  may  well  deserve  your  laughter." 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  374;  Euing,  258;  Douce,  II.  168,  III.  70.] 

Ct)e  JI2ortt)ern  SDtttp ; 

%f)t  £>cotcg=man  £>ut=tmttc&  lip  tge  Coumrp  SDamgc^ 

To  an  excellent  New  Scotch  Tune,  of  Cold  and  Raw  the  North  did 
bloiv,  etc.     A  Song  much  in  Request  at  Court.     [See  p.  232.] 

This  may  be  Printed.     R[ich].  P[ocock]. 

COld  and  Raw  the  North  did  blow,  bleak  in  the  morning  early ; 
All  the  trees  were  hid  with  snow,  cover'd  with  winter  fearly  : 
As  I  came  riding  o'er  the  slough,  I  met  with  a  Farmer's  Daughter ; 
Rosie  cheeks,  and  bonny  brow,  geud  faith,  made  my  mouth  to  water. 

Down  I  vail'd  my  bonnet  low,  meaning  to  show  my  breeding, 
She  return'd  a  graceful  bow,  her  visage  far  exceeding  : 
I  ask'd  her  where  she  went  so  soon,  and  long'd  to  begin  a  parley ; 
She  told  me  to  the  next  market-town,  a  purpose  to  sell  her  Barley. 

"  In  this  purse,  sweet  soul !  "  said  I,  "  twenty  pound  lies  fairly, 
Seek  no  farther  one  to  buy,  for  1'se  take  all  thy  Burley : 
Twenty  more  shall  purchase  delight,  thy  person  I  love  so  dearly, 
If  thou  wilt  lig  by  me  all  night,  and  gang  home  in  the  morning  early." 

"  If  forty  pound  would  buy  the  Globe,  this  thing  I'de  not  do,  Sir ; 
Or  were  my  friends  as  poor  as  Job,  I'd  never  raise  'em  so,  Sir: 
For  shou'd  you  prove  to-night  my  friend,  we'se  get  a  young  kid  together, 
And  you'd  begone  e'r  nine  months  end,  &  where  shall  I  find  the  Father? 

"  Pray  what  would  my  parents  say,  if  I  should  be  so  silly, 
To  give  my  Maidenhead  away,  and  lose  my  true  love  Billy  ? 
Oh  this  would  bring  me  to  disgrace,  and  therefore  I  say  you  nay,  Sir  ; 
And  if  that  you  would  me  embrace,  first  marry,  &  then  you  may,  Sir!" 

I  told  her  I  had  wedded  been,  fourteen  years  and  longer, 
Else  I'd  chuse  her  for  my  Queen,  and  tye  the  knot  yet  stronger. 
She  bid  me  then  no  farther  roame,  but  manage  my  wedlock  fairly, 
And  keep  my  purse  for  poor  Spouse  at  home,  for  some  other  should 
have  her  Barley. 

Then  as  swift  as  any  roe,  she  rode  away  and  left  me ; 

After  her  I  could  not  go,  of  joy  she  quite  bereft  me  : 

Thus  I  my  self  did  disappoint,  for  she  did  leave  me  fairly, 

My  words  knock'd  all  things  out  of  joint,  I  lost  both  the  maid  &  barley. 

[By  Tom  D'Urfey. 

Printed  for  P.  Broohsby,  J.  Beacon,  J.  Blare,  J.  Bach. 

[In  Black-letter.  Four  woodcuts.  1st  and  2nd  are  on  p.  133  ;  3rd  on  p.  206  ; 
4th,  on  p.  203.  Date,  1685-87.  Euing's  and  Roxb.,  same  Printers;  Douce,  II. 
168,  has  London,  p.  by  T.  Norris  ;  III.  70,  is  a  Newcastle-upon-Tyne  reprint.] 


Zn  2instoer  to  CoiD  anD  iaato  ; 


Cgc  &>cotcg  dDallant  ncfecr  brmt  fitteO  tftan  Jje  toag  at  a 

§>cccmD  Sfermng  totti)  tlje  j*armer'0  SDaugJjtm 

To  the  Tune  of,  Cold  and  Raw,  etc.     This  may  be  Printed,  R.P. 

Riding  down  a  narrow  Lane,  two  or  three  hours  after, 
It  was  my  chance  to  meet  again  this  bonny  Farmer's  Daughter ; 
Although  it  was  both  Raw  and  Cold,  I  stayed  to  hold  a  parley, 
And  show'd  once  more  my  Purse  of  Gold,  when  as  she  had  sold  her 

"  Love,"  said  I,  "  pray  do  not  frown,  but  let  us  change  embraces, 
I'le  buy  thee  a  new  Silken  Gown,  with  ribbons,  gloves,  and  laces : 
A  ring  and  bodkin,  muff  and  fan,  no  Lady  shall  have  neater, 
For  as  I  am  an  honest  man,  I  ne'er  see  a  sweeter  Creature." 
Then  I  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  said,  "  My  dearest  Jewel, 
Why  should'st  thou  thus  disputing  stand  ?  1  prithee  be  not  cruel." 
She  found  my  mind  was  fully  bent,  to  pleasure  my  fond  desire, 
Therefore  she  seemed  to  consent,  but  I  wish  1  had  ne'r  come  nigh  her. 
"  Sir,"  said  she,  "  What  shall  I  do,  if  I  commit  this  Evil, 
And  yield  myself  in  love  to  you,  I  hope  you  will  prove  civil : 
You  talkt  of  ribbons,  gloves  and  rings,  and  likewise  gold  and  treasure, 

0  let  me  first  enjoy  those  things,  &  then  you  shall  use  your  pleasure." 
"  Sure  thy  will  shall  be  obey'd,"  said  I,  "  my  own  dear  honey." 
Then  into  her  lap  I  laid  full  forty  pound  in  money : 

"  "We'll  to  the  Market-Town  this  day,  &  straightways  end  the  quarrel, 

And  deck  thee  like  a  Lady  gay,  in  flourishing  rich  Apparel." 

All  my  gold  and  silver  there  to  her  I  did  deliver, 

On  our  road  we  did  repair,  but  coming  near  a  river, 

"Whose  waters  was  both  deep  and  wide,  such  rivers  I  ne'r  see  many, 

She  leapt  her  mare  to  the  other  side,  and  left  me  not  one  poor  penny. 

Then  my  heart  was  sunk  full  low,  with  grief  and  care  surrounded, 

After  her  I  could  not  go,  for  fear  of  being  Drownded  : 

She  turn'd  about,  and  said,  "  Behold,  I  am  not  for  your  devotion  : 

But  Sir,  I  thank  ye  for  my  Gold,  'twill  serve  to  inlarge  my  portion." 

1  began  to  stamp  and  stare,  to  see  what  she  had  acted, 
With  my  hands  I  tore  my  hair,  like  one  that  was  distracted : 

"  Give  me  my  money  !  "  then  I  cry'd,  "  geud  faith,  I  did  but  lend  it." 
But  she  full  last  away  did  ride,  and  vow'd  she  did  not  intend  it. 


Printed  for  J.  Beacon  in  Guilt-spur-street,  J.  Blare  on  London-Bridge. 

[In  Black-letter.     C.  22,  e.  2,  30.     Three  woodcuts :   1st,  on  p.  210  ;  2nd  in  vol. 
Lv.  p.  344  ;  3rd,  the  same  as  already  mentioned  on  p.  85.     Date,  circa  1686.] 
JSute  of  woodcuts  to  next  ballad  (Jersey,  I.  263;  C.  22,  e.  2,  19)  is  on  p.  237. 


Ci)trti  merrp  SDtttp  of  Cold  $  iRato ; 

H5emg  tftc  fierce  (Encounter  bettoeen  7%er  tge  Plow-man 
and  tge  bottnp  >SW,  tnijo  met  toitft  jjtm  toijen  ge  toag 
at  a  fait  tottfi  tge  Farmer's  HDauggter* 

To  the  same  Tttne  [of  Cold  and  Raw~].     This  may  be  Printed,  E.P. 

COld  and  Raw  you  can't  forget,  the  Maid  that  sold  the  Barley, 
Who  the  Scotch-man  did  out-wit,  one  Winter's  morning  early  : 
Then  listen  now  and  I'le  unfold  a  third  and  pleasant  story, 
How  he  beset  her  for  his  Gold,  but  it  prov'd  young  Roger  s  glory. 
He  was  riding  to  a  Fair,  with  Kate  his  Master's  Daughter, 
When  the  Scot  did  meet  them  there,  but  mark  what  follow'd  after  : 
When  as  the  Scot  the  Lass  espy'd,  he  ruv'd  at  her  out  of  measure, 
"  Give  me  my  purse  and  gold  !  "  he  cry'd,  "  you  rob'd  me  of  all  my 

Envy  was  in  Jockey's  face,  but  yet  that  no  way  daunts  her, 
Kate  with  a  most  noble  grace  returns  him  straight  this  answer  : 
"  I  never  stole  no  purse  from  you  ;  could  I  be  so  much  your  Master? 
Be  gone,  and  make  no  more  ado,  or  else  I  will  lay  you  faster." 

Now  to  Roger  she  made  known  how  often  the  \_Scot]  did  wooe  her, 
When  he  met  her  all  alone,  in  order  to  undo  her  :  [my  honey  ? 

"  Uds-zooks  !  "  quoth  Roger,  "  did  he  so,  and  would  he  have  wrong'd 
Then  by  my  faith,  before  I  go,  this  Cudgel  shall  pay  thy  Money." 
Jockey  he  had  by  his  side  a  true  and  trusty  Rapier, 
Therefore  with  his  haughty  pride  at  Roger  he  did  vapour : 
Which  did  his  spirits  so  provoke,  that  anger  and  blows  encreases, 
His  Rapier  with  a  bang  he  broke,  that  shiver' d  in  twenty  pieces. 

Yet  stout  Roger  did  not  mean  of  life  once  to  deprive  him, 

But  about  the  Fair  and  Green  he  like  a  Stag  did  drive  him  : 

At  length  he  beg'd  his  pardon  there  of  Katy  the  Farmer's  Daughter, 

It  was  the  Sport  of  all  the  Fair,  there  never  was  greater  laughter. 

By  all  men,  and  women  too,  stout  Roger  was  commended, 
Further  still  their  love  to  show,  the  Quarrel  being  ended, 
A  Rule  was  made  through  all  the  town,  for  Roger's  sake  to  be  merry, 
And  drank  his  health  in  Liquor  brown,  nay,  likewise  in  rich  Canary. 

Then  near  night  they  home  would  ride,  and  Roan  was  straight  made 
Horse  and  man  on  e'ry  side,  as  if  a  Lord  and  Lady  :  [ready, 

When  corning  to  her  Father  dear,  said  they,  "he deserves  to  have  her," 
Now  ever  since  that  time,  we  hear,  stout  Roger  is  much  in  favour, 

And  belov'd  at  such  a  rate,  by  Father,  Friends  and  Mother, 
That  they  vow'd  he  should  have  Kate,  uds-zooks!  above  all  other; 
Because  he  kept  her  safe  from  harm,  &fear'd  neither  wind  nor  weather, 
And  now  they  keep  a  worthy  Farm,  where  they  lovingly  live  together. 

Printed  for  J\onah~\  Deacon,  at  the  Angel  in  Guilt-spur-street. 


[Douce  Collection,  II.  187.     Apparently  Unique.] 

l&oger'g  IRenoton ; 

Cfie  jfouttS  atiH  3La£t  Spcrcp  2Dtttp  of  Cold  and  Kaw. 

Shewing  p?ob)  bis  bcrtuous  WLih,  tf)c  jFatmcr's  Eaurjhtcr,  bias  fjrj 
Ijtm  mabe  tlje  JKotbcr  of  &bree  Bogs  at  a  Bt'rtb.  OTitf)  an 
account  of  tbc  fiCijristcning  anb  3obtaI  (gossiping,  fohich  baas  much 
to  thi  crcbt't  of  Roger. 

To  the  Tune  of,  CWf?  «w^  iiW.     This  may  be  Printed,  R.P. 

X>  Oger  did  a  letter  send  of  late  to  London  City, 

In  which  these  merry  lines  he  pen'd,  it  is  a  pleasant  Ditty, 
Concerning  Kate,  whom  he  did  wed,  how  since  they  have  been  together, 
With  three  brave  Boys  she  was  brought  to  Bed,  and  made  him  a 
happy  Father. 

Roger  would  salute  bis  Spouse,  then  viewing  one  and  t'other, 
Bosie  Cheeks  and  bonny  brows,  they  all  were  like  their  Mother: 
Likewise  her  pritty  sloe-black  eyes,  and  pretty  charming  features, 
But  like  their  Dad  between  the  thighs,  most  pleasant  and  smiling 

Gossips  then  he  did  provide,  of  young  men  half  a  dozen, 
Jumping  Joan  and  Boll,  beside,  Susan,  stout  Roger's  Cousin, 
This  being  done,  they  all  did  say,  both  Dolly,  Sue  and  Sarah, 
"  We  will  appoint  another  day,  wherein  we  will  all  be  merry.'' 

Then  upon  a  merry  pin,  about  some  three  weeks  after, 
They  came  all  to  a  Gossiping  to  Kate  the  Parmer's  Daughter. 
When  itoytr  he  was  in  his  mirth,  the  Women  sweet  smiles  did  send  him, 
To  think  of  three  Boysat  a  Birth,  thej' cou'd  not  chuse  but  commendhim. 
At  this  gallant  Gossips'  Peast,  if  I  am  not  mistaken, 
Porty  wives  there  was  at  least,  who  fed  on  Cock  and  Bacon, 
The  Nappy  Ale  still  kept  its  rounds,  and  some  cou'd  tip  up  a  Pottle, 
At  last  the  Liquor  got  into  their  Crowns,  &  then  they  began  to  Twattle. 

Roger's  health  they  straight  began,  quoth  Joan,   "  Here's  to  thee, 

Neighbour ! 
Is  he  not  a  Lusty  Man,  and  fit  for  Women's  labour?  " 
"  Yes,  by  my  troth  !  "  another  cry'd,  "  consider  the  gifts  he  gave  her, 
There  is  but  few  such  men  beside,  he's  worthy  of  Women's  favour." 

Bridget  then  did  break  her  mind,  to  those  all  round  the  Table, 
"  My  Old  Man  is  most  unkind,  he  won't  do  what  he's  able. 
He's  good  for  nought,  but  sleep  and  feed,  a  sorrowful  gray  old  Badger ; 
Ali !   happy  should  I  be  indeed,  if  he  was  but  as  brisk  as  Roger. 

Roger's  Renoicn  :  the  end  of  Cold  and  Rate.'         237 

They  another  health  begin,  for  they  were  not  for  going, 

Nappy  Ale  came  freely  in,  and  Glasses  they  were  flowing; 

For  Roger's  "Wife  &  Children  three  the  second  good  Health  now  passes, 

A  good  Turn  never  may  have  she,  that  strives  to  baulk  her  Glasses. 

"When  the  Gloomy  Night  drew  near,  these  wives  of  charming  beauty 
To  their  Husbands  home  did  steer,  to  let  them  know  their  duty ; 
Save  one,  who  said  she  was  afraid,  and  therefore  would  have  Kate 

Lodge  her, 
At  this  full  twenty  would  have  stay'd,  and  all  for  the  sake  of  Roger. 


Printed  for  J.  Blare,  at  the  Looking- Glass  on  London-Bridge. 

[In  Black-letter.     Three  woodcuts:  1st,  the  couple  on  p.  103;  2nd,  a  double 
cut,  showing  the  Feast ;  with  musicians  in  a  gallery  aloft,  and  the  christening 
in  church.     3rd,  the  little  man,  p.  206.     Date,  1685-88.] 
Of  the  previous  Third  Part,  p.  235,  first  woodcut  is  a  woman  in  vol.  vi.  p.  666  ; 

third,  a  man,  in  vi.  173  ;  fourth,  two  figures  in  Bag  ford  Ballads,  p.  174. 

Compare  the  other  christening,  '  Soger's  Delight,'  to  the  same  tune,  on  p.  210. 
But  our  present  Eoger  is  the  better  man  of  the  two. 

*x*  This  is  the  triumph  of  "  Roger  the  Plough-man."  We  give,  on  p.  238, 
"  The  Plowman's  Reply  to  the  Merry  Milkmaid's  Delight  "  (promised  on  p.  26  ; 
its  chief  woodcut,  a  maypole,  was  given  on  p.  79) ;  after  it  follows,  on  sheet 
sign,  r,  other  good  Plow-man  ditties,  viz.,  '  The  Merry  Plow-man  and  Loving 
Milkmaid  ;  '  '  The  Sorrowful  Citizen  and  Couragious  Plow-man,'  also  '  The 
Citizen's  Vindication  against  the  Downright  Countryman,'  which  is  a  sequel  of 
'  The  Great  Boobee.'  Moreover,  we  have  found  the  long- sought  '  Plow-man's 
Honour  made  known,'  which  is  '  The  Country  Maid's  Delight.' 

Nota  Bene. — In  vol.  vi.  pp.  343-5,  when  reprinting  Thomas  Lanfiere's  ballad  of 
"  The  Good-Fellow's  Resolution,"  we  needed  to  identify  the  tune  assigned  to  it, 
named  as  "  The  Plowman's  Honour  made  known,"  which  for  awhile  eluded  our 
search.  We  believe  that  we  have  now  tracked  it  home,  and  that  it  is  identical 
with  "The  Country-Maid's  Delight;  or,  The  Husband-man's  Honour  made 
known,"  an  apparently  unique  ballad,  to  be  afterwards  given  complete,  beginning 

rOu  young  Men  and  Maids  that  in  country  doth  dwell, 
Lend  attention,  if  time  spare  you  can, 
I'le  sing  you  a  song  that  will  please  full  well, 

In  praise  of  the  honest  Plow-man. 
Then  hey  for  the  Plow-man,  that's  valiant  and  stout, 

I  love  h  im  as  dear  as  my  life  ; 
For  if  e'er  I  be  ived,  or  lose  my  maidenhead, 

I  will  be  a  Husband-man's  Wife.  (13  other  stanzas.) 

To  the  tune  of  The  Souldier's  Delight,  or  The  Seaman's  Adieu  to  his  Dear. 
London,  printed  for  F.  Coles,  etc.  The  rhythm  does  not  exactly  coincide  with 
our  requisition,  but  is  tolerably  near  it ;  as  closely  as  ballad-writers  needed  of  old. 
In  the  second  Naval  Group  of  Ballads  we  shall  meet '  The  Seaman's  Adieu 
to  his  Dear'  (Roxb.  Coll.,  III.  106,  beginning,  "Come  all  loyal  Lovers  that's 
faithful  and  true"),  whereof  the  tune  named  is  'J  will  go  to  Sir  Richard'  : 
possibly  the  burden  of  the  missing  ballad  called  '  The  Soldier's  Delight.' 

"  y< 


[Lost  from  Roxburghc  Coll.,  II.  579;  Douce,  II.  177  vo.    Apparently  unique.] 

€bc  ipioto-a&an'is  IRcpip  to  tbc  e^crri? 
a^ilk  ^aitrs  Dcligbt. 

The  Milk-Maid's  Humour  lie  doth  well  approve, 
And  for  her  kind  expressions  doth  her  love; 
Maintaining  still  a  Country  Life  to  be 
The  true  enjoyment  of  sweet  Liberty: 

And  how  for  pleasure,  and  for  profit,  they 

Do  till  the  ground,  aud  reap  the  Corn  and  Hay. 

Tune  of,  I  am  a  Weaver  by  my  Trade,  etc.     [See  p.  2G.] 

I  Am  a  Plow-man  brisk  and  young,  and  well  I  like  the  Milk-Maid's  song  ; 
And  since  our  Humours  so  well  agree,  l'le  answer  her  thus  lovingly. 

A  Country  Life  for  to  commend,  it  is  the  thing  that  I  intend  ; 

Aud  how  we  young  men  pass  the  time,  I  put  it  into  harmless  Uhime  :  8 

Each  morning  we  do  early  rise  before  bright  Sol  doth  gild  the  Bkyes  , 
And  to  our  work  our  selves  betake,  before  that  Sluggards  are  awake. 

We  busie  and  imploy  our  wits,  according  as  the  season  fits  : 

Then  iheariully  about  we  trudge,  and  at  our  Labor  never  grudge.  16 

Some  to  the  Come,  some  to  the  Hay,  or  to  the  Plow  we  take  our  way  : 
Aud  there  we  do  our  selves  imploy,  in  hopes  the  profit  to  injoy. 

To  tend  the  Cattel  in  the  fields,  and  see  the  pleasure  Flora  yields, 

The  Ewes  aud  Lambs  do  us  delight,  to  bring  them  to  the  folds  at  Night.  ['  Yews.' 

We  count  our  Labor  is  no  pain,  each  morning  we  are  fresh  again, 
And  in  the  brisk  and  open  air  we  to  our  stations  do  repair. 

"When  Night  doth  bring  us  home  to  rest,  we  feed  on  that  which  is  the  best ; 
With  wholesome  food  we  satislie  our  appetites  abundantly.  32 

Good  flesh  and  lisli  we  never  want,  and  for  all  fruits  we  have  no  scant, 
"What  land  or  water  doth  afford  we  ready  have  upon  the  board. 

Our  healthful  Bodies  we  preserve,  and  for  our  own  Physicians  serve  ; 

Good  Kitchen- Physici  is  the  best,  to  bring  us  unto  quiet  Rest.  10 

We  are  not  like  your  puny  Cits,  who  make  too  bold  with  dainty  hits; 
I  ut il  Diseases  them  inflame,  aud  then  they  do  repent  with  shame. 

When  leasure  time  we  have  to  spare,  for  Recreation  we  prepare, 

For  fishing  or  for  fowling  we,  can  take  our  time  and  liberty.  48 

Then  to  the  boozing  Ken  we  live,  our  Fowl  to  roast,  and  Fish  to  fry,  [Cf.  p.  189 
Which  in  good  Ale  we  make  to  swim,  with  Cups  till'd  up  unto  the  brim. 

Our  Hostess,  and  her  Daughter  Nan,  doth  bid  us  welcome  now  and  than. 

And  what  we  a>k  will  not  deny,  because  they  know  a  reason  why.  56 

Upon  each  Holy-day  we  meet  with  Doll  and  Kate,  who  kiss  most  sweet  ; 
And  all  the  Girles  so  frank  and  free,  and  there  we  frollick  merrily. 

Then  for  the  Piper  we  do  call,  and  bid  him  play  us,  Up-Tails  all : 

Then  Jh>/  ;/<>  mail,  we  dance  about,  and  there  we  keep  a  revel  Rout.  64 

The  Ploughman's  Reply  to  the  Milkmaid's  Delight.    W) 

Por  Ben  he  takes  out  bouncing  Beta,  and  refer  he  can  do  no  less 

But  hare  a  f risk  with  Hunting  Moll;  whilst  Z7am«l  be  doth  danoe  with  Doll, 

When  we  are  in  <>ur  beet  array,  and  walk  the  fields  so  fresh  and  gay  i 
Willi  hand  in  hand,  most  lovingly,  it.  is  ;i  pleasant  sight  to 

Tin'  City  and  the  gaudy  Court  may  envy  tins  our  harmless  Sport: 
Winch  is  so  innooent  and  rare  tiny  never  oan  with  us  compare. 

Therefore  I'm  of  Hie  Milk-maid's  mind,  mid  for  her  Love,  I  will  lie  kind  ; 
.since  we  us  one  tin  both  agree  to  cry,  '  A  Country  Life  lor  me! ' 

London,  Printed  lor  //'.  Thackeray,  T.  Paeeenger,  and  //'.  Whitwood. 

|  in  Black-letter.    Twowoodcuts:  one  mentioned  on  p.  88 ;  other  given  on  p.  79, 
lor  '  May-Day  Country  Mirth,'  copied  from  this  broadside.    Date,  circa  1870-77.] 



*  * 

Note  on  the  tune,  To  thee,  to  thee,  mentioned  on  |>|>.  225,  227. 

An  earlier  mime  for  it  was  Muni,,  Boyi  1  it  became  better  known  as  The  Merry 
Bappipee,  from  the  ballad  so  entitled,  'The  Merry  Bagpipes '  (Eoxhurghe 
Collection,  II.  363,  worde  and mueio in  Pillt  to  purge  Melancholy,  iv.  136,  1710 

edition).      To  show   how  the  tune- no   cumo  fco  lie  quoted,  Irom  the  liiiiden,  the 

first  stanza  is  here  given  i — 

"  A  Shepherd  sat  him  under  a  Thorn, 

lie  puii  d  out  his  pipe  and  began  for  to  play, 
II,  was  on  a  Midsummer1  e-day  in  the  morn, 

Por  h ir  of  that  Soly-day, 

A  ditty  he  did  chant  along,  goes  to  the  tune  of  Cater  Bordee,  [qu.  Boree f 
And  this  is  the  burden  of  bis  song, l  If  thou  wilt  pipe,  Lad,  Vie  dance  to  thee, 
To  thee,  to  thee,  deny  dtrry,  to  thee,  etc." 

Bia  more  stanzas.     Popular  Mutio,  p.  625,  gives  the  tune,    The  woodcut  in  the 
broadside,  representing  a  Country  Bevel  in  of  special  merit,  to  be  copied  loon. 

[  Thin  cut  of  Winter  belongs  to  j).  172;  this  of  Spring  t<> '  Cumberland  Laddy.'] 


Ballafce  tie  J!?otre  Cemps* 

'A  Cavalier's  Lyric'  for  William   Robert  Wilson,  Esq.,  of  the  British 

Museum  Library. 

(To  whom  the  following  Group  is  Dedicated.) 

QING  us  no  more  of  your  doleful  Ditties, 

Sour,  lackadaisical,  moping  Lays  ! 
Give  us  a  lilting  Carol  ivhere  wit  is, 
One  that  may  cheer  us  in  darken  'd  days. 
Call  yourselves  Poets,  claimants  of"  bays  ! — 
Evermore  droning  a  dismal  tune, 

Such  as  all  courage  and  mirth  ouhveighs  : 
Give  us  a  Lyric  of  Roses  and  June  ! 

Sing,  if  you  please,  of  Italian  cities, 

Where  we  of  old  used  to  linger  and  gaze, 
Floating  in  gondola  nightly,  as  fit  is, 

While  Bella-Donna  from  balcony  plays  ; 

Bold  were  the  hand  that  dared  to  raise 
Veil  meant  to  shelter  her  cheek  from  the  moon  : 

Surely  a  smile  for  one  moment  strays  ? 
Give  us  a  Lyric  of  Roses  and  June  ! 

Sing  not  of  London,  where  Catchpole  or  writ  is, 

Usurers'  cobweb  each  May -fly  betrays  ; 
Fortune  is  fickle,  since  nobody  pities 

Thirsty  poor  souls,  or  their  reckoning  pays. 

Hold  we  the  clue  to  Lifts  tangled  maze  ? 
None  save  the  Minstrel  can  guide  men  soon 

To  a  Bower  of  Bliss  amid  hour  is  or  fays  : 
Give  us  a  Lyric  of  Roses  and  June. 

Live  your  true  life  in  the  Midsummer  rays, 

Prize  Love  the  best,  in  your  manhood's  noon  ; 
He  is  a  fool  who  sings  not  or  says, 

"  Give  us  a  Lyric  of  Roses  and  June  !  " 


iao;rtmrgl)e  25alla&s. 


[  (See  pp.  32s,  429,  452-) 

T  N  Summer  time,  when  flowers  do  spring, 

-*-      And  birds  sit  on  each  tree, 

Let  Lords  and  Knights  say  what  they  will, 

There's  none  so  merry  as  we. 
There's  Will  and  Moll,  with  Harry  and  Doll, 
And  Tom  and  bonny  Bettie  : 

Oh  !  hcnu  they  do  jei-k  it,  caper  and firk  it, 
Under  the  Greenwood-tree  ! 

"  Our  Musick  is  a  little  Pipe. 
That  can  so  sweetly  play, 
We  hire  Old  Hal  from  Whitsuntide 

Till  latter  Lam??ias-Day. 
On  Sabbath  days  and  Holy-days. 
After  Ev'ning-prayer  comes  he  ; 

And  (Inn  do  we  skip  it,  caper  and  trip  it, 
Under  the  Grecnxoood-tree  I  " 

—  The  West  Country  Delight. 

HHIugtrating  tge  la$t  gearg  of  tlje  &tuart& 



J.    WOODFALL   EBSWORTH,    M.A.,   Cantab.,   F.S.A. 

Author  of   '  Karl's  Legacy,'   1868,   and    '  Cavalier  Lyrics,'    1888 ; 

Editor  of  four  reprinted  '  Drolleries  '  of  the  Restoration  ; 

of  'The  Bagford  Ballads'  and  'Amanda  Group  of 

Bagford  Poems  '  ;  '  The  Two  Earliest  Quartos 

of  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  1600:' 



Vol  VM.    part  M. 

ffiroups  of  JHcrrg  Sbbrntures,  TOIIafo*@rcm  BallaK  Eobe's 
Jftiscfjanccs,  ^ssra&ateti  Complaints,  antj  <ZTam  tljc  Caglor. 


TTTHEN  Love  was  all  we  cared  to  k?iow, 

'"    Little  we  reck'd  of  wind  or  weather. 

Hand  in  hand  we  roved  together 

IVhertruer  we  heard  the  voices  call ; 
Fortune  the  fickle  might  prove  our  foe. 

Clouding  the  sky,  or  blighting  the  flowers. 
Changing  gay  boivers  tofamiue-toiuers; 
Yet  Love  was  all — 

And  Love  was  ours. 

When  Love,  estranged,  no  more  we  know. 
Folly  it  were  for  us  to  linger  ; 
Welcome  the  sign  from  Death' s  forefinger 
Pointing  the  ?oay  7vhere  icicles  fall, 
Mutely  guiding,  and  bidding  us  go. 

Since  Fortune  lours,  and  sweetness  sours, 
Aro  Spring-time  sho7vers  revive  dead  flowers  : 
Still  we  recall — 

4  Love  once  was  ours  !  ' 



IPrinteu  for  t&e  THallan  ^octetp, 



E  -J 


No.  32. 

^tutorial  preface  to  #art  $M. 

{Richmond).  — "  Fellows  in  Arms,  and  my  most  loving  Friends, 
Bruised  underneath  the  yoke  of  tyranny, 
Thus  far  into  the  bowels  of  the  land 
Have  we  marched  on  without  impediment ; 
And  here  receive  [y]e  from  our  [Molash  Priory] 
Lines  of  fair  comfort  and  encouragement. " 

— Richard  III.  Act  v.  sc.  2. 

E  now  offer  to  the  small  circle  of  subscribing 
and  paying  Members  of  the  Ballad  Society 
(whose  ranks  are  thinned  down  by  the 
remorseless  years,  and  never  replenished : 
Hinc  ilia:  lachrymce  /)  the  second  instalment 
of  the  Final  Volume,  which  is  the  Seventh. 
Thus  far !  There  is  need  of  courage  and 
perseverance,  with  our  diminished  forces 
and  funds,  to  attain  the  promised  end. 

This  second  portion,  of  fully  two  hundred  and  fifty-six  pages, 
contains  a  hundred  fresh  ballads,  many  of  them  from  unique 
originals,  all  of  rarity ;  very  few  of  the  best  were  ever 
reprinted  before.  We  may  assuredly  boast  that  they,  with  their 
inter-relation  and  resemblances,  their  antecedents  or  sequels, 
deserve  the  attention  which  we  claim  for  them.  Sometimes, 
indeed,  the  portions  had  been  dissevered,  unavoidably  dispersed 
throughout  this  and  preceding  volumes ;  as  were  the  ballads 
themselves,  scattered  in  various  private  or  public  '  Collections,' 
and  never  hitherto  re-conjoined.  It  was  thus  with  the  many 
parts  of  '  Cupid's  Trappan.'  But  even  with  so  free-handed  a 
series  as  those  devoted  to  "Tom  the  Taylor  near  the  Strand'''' 
and  his  fraternity,  also  his  foes  masculine  or  feminine,  bipedal 
or  sesquipedalian  (on  pp.  464.  et  seq.),  the  gathering  into  one 
focus  these  now- convergent  rays  of  light  ought  to  yield  pleasure  : 
unless  the  reader  be,  Malvolio-wise,  "sick  of  self-love,  and 
taste  with  a  distempered  appetite."  We  claim  not  for  all  such 
ballads  that  "  our  Bear  dances  to  none  but  the  very  genteelest 
of  tunes  :   '  Water  parted'  or  the  'Minuet  in  Ariadne'  " 

The  country  life,  of  English  peasantry,  ploughmen,  ditchers, 
farmers,  millers,  and  milkmaids,  is  truthfully  displayed  here. 
We  soon  dismiss  as  fantastical  the  conventional  theatre-songs 
of  sundry  impossible  Strephons  and  Chloes,  or  Chlorises  and 

viii**      "  The  SJwrt  and  Simple  A?inals  of  the  Poor." 

Phillises,  who  like  the  Dresden-china  shepherdesses  are  wooed 
by  Dresden-china  shepherds,  with  their  courtly  compliments  and 
a  be-ribboned  crook  in  the  lot.  We  come  to  many  a  genuine 
revelation  of  rustic  labour  in  these  pages.  Their  monotonous  toils 
and  hardships  are  neither  disguised  nor  painfully  demonstrated. 
Poverty  and  subservience  to  their  employers  are  accepted 
without  grudging.  When  we  hear  of  a  '  Nobleman's  generous 
kindness'  (p.  32Q),  it  holds  no  harsher  comment  than  the  final 
line,  "  But  such  Noblemen  there  are  but  few  to  be  found."  In 
4  The  Ploughman's  Praise,'  and  '  The  Merry  Ploughman  and 
Loving  Milkmaid,'  the  realities  of  happiness  are  plainly 
described,  in  language  that  is  unforced  and  pleasing.  But  the 
rogueries  of  millers,  and  the  rapidity  with  which  country  wenches 
learn  the  tricks  of  the  town-rakes,  whereby  they  can  either 
defend  or  avenge  themselves,  are  not  forgotten.  Ballad-writers 
delighted  to  contrast  the  healthy  frankness  of  village  maidens 
with  the  flaunting  extravagance  of  vicious  London  '  Misses.'  But 
all  was  not  gold  that  glisters  in  either  quarter,  even  among  the 
Nannies  and  Cumberland  Nellies,  when  once  sly  Cupid  had 
worked  his  mischief  in  their  hearts.  We  who  learnt  the  truth, 
in  modern  days,  by  statistics  and  by  seeing  Scotch  and  English 
immorality,  in  squalid  and  neglected  localities,  during  the 
so-called  "  agricultural  depression,"  and  perhaps  worse  during 
previous  years  of  unforeseeing  prosperity  (when  complaints 
were  as  frequent),  need  not  wonder  at  any  indication  of  vicious 
misconduct  sullying  the  records  of  the  peasantry  in  Stuart  times. 
We  continue  to  accumulate  these  rare  and  trustworthy  ballads, 
which  form  collectively  a  better  library  of  reference  on  the 
varied  life  of  the  lower  and  the  middle  classes  than  can  be  found 
elsewhere.  We  despise  any  malignant  misconstruction,  which 
would  assign  to  impure  and  improper  motives  the  willingness 
to  study  (so  far  as  is  possible  and  convenient)  the  unmutilated 
and  adulterated  ballads  of  old  time.  Where  temporarily  some 
slight  modification,  or  the  filling  up  of  blanks  in  defective  copies, 
may  be  necessary  (Roxburghe  exemplars  having  suffered  rough 
usage  at  the  hands  of  previous  possessors,  and  bad  '  mounting' 
by  ignorant  bookbinders),  an  invariable  sign  or  token  of  such 
Editorial  revision,  viz.  the  use  of  square  brackets,  restricted  to 
this  service,  should  disarm  criticism.  That  there  had  been 
coarseness  in  public  taste  during  the  seventeenth  century  may 
be  admitted.  But  it  is  too  often  forgotten  by  Critics  that,  in 
the  eighteenth  century,  this  taste  became  still  more  gross. 
Despite  the  mask  of  sanctimonious  morality,  Society  is  now 
perhaps  worse  than  ever.  Here  is  a  lyric  on  country  life, 
written  254  years  ago,  wholly  devoid  of  taint.  It  is  by  Thomas 
Heywood,  in  his  Ptlopce  and  Alope,  1637. 


"  //  dallies  with  the  innocence  of  Love,  like  the  old  age."    ix 

[a  &cmg  of  €Qu\xttp  ILift*] 

"  W/"E  that  have  knowne  no  greater  state  than  this  we  live  in,  praise  our  fate  : 
*  *    For  Courtly  Silkes  in  cares  are  spent,  when  Countrie's  russet  breeds 
The  power  of  Scepters  we  admire,  but  Sheep-hookes  for  our  use  desire. 
Simple  and  low  is  our  condition,  for  here  with  us  is  no  ambition. 
We  with  the  Sunne  our  flockes  unfold,  whose  rising  makes  their  fleeces  gold. 
Our  musick  from  the  birds  we  borrow ;    they  bidding  us,  we  them,  good- 

"  Our  habits  are  but  coarse  and  plaine,  yet  they  defend  from  wind  and  raine, 
As  warme  too,  in  an  equall  eye,  as  those  be,  stain'd  in  Scarlet  dye. 
Those  that  have  plenty,  weare  (we  see)  but  one  at  once  ;  and  so  doe  we. 
The  Shepheard  with  his  home-spun  Lasse  as  many  merry  houres  doth  passe 
As  Courtiers  with,  their  costly  Girles,  though  richly  deckt  in  gold  and  pearles  ; 
And  though  but  plaine,  to  purpose  woo,  nay,  oft-times  with  lesse  danger  too." 

Where  are  the  banquetting  guests,  our  Subscribers  ?  For  them 
is  the  new  feast  spread,  and  it  is  by  no  means  a  cold  Collation. 

The  chief  joint  is  a  '  Group  of  Merry  Adventures,'  which 
even  the  irrepressible  and  ubiquitous  '  Young  person  '  might 
peruse  without  being  injured ;  although  we  protest  against 
all  literature  being  regulated  by  Vigilance  Committees  ;  all  songs 
by  Paul  Pry  London  County  Councillors  ;  and  all  draped  or 
undraped  life-studies,  Rabelaisian  or  Calderonic,  doomed  to 
destruction  by  prurient  prudery  and  a.' British  Matron.' 

Our  stores  of  merriment  were  not  exhausted,  but  a  fresh 
course  demanded  a  change  of  plates  from  the  chief  waiter; 
who  proffered  some  bitter  herbs  and  '  Ballads  of  Love's 
Mischances.'  After  all  these,  we  met  a  '  Baffled  Knight '  and 
listened  to  '  Cumberland  Nelly '  or  the  '  Witty  Maid  of  the 
West.'  '  Tom  the  Taylor,'  being  indiscreet,  met  his  punishment 
ingloriously.  But  frequency  of  allusion  to  this  tune  and  subject 
forbade  his  rejection. 

The  ground  being  cleared  for  more  important  subjects,  we 
hope  to  persuade  our  worthy  Oriental  Printers,  The  Messrs. 
Stephen  Austin  and  Sons,  of  Hertford,  to  resume  work 
without  delay,  and  enable  us  to  pilot  the  vessel  into  its  due 
harbour.  We  have  more  than  a  hundred  ballads  still  to  reprint, 
but  they  are  already  annotated,  and  the  drawings  are  prepared. 

We  shall  recommence  with  two  Groups  of  Historical  Ballads, 
one  set  being  Before  the  Revolution ;  the  other  of  William  and 
Mary,  chiefly  Military.  We  show  their  Accession  and  Coronation, 
the  war  in  Flanders,  the  battles  at  sea,  1692,  the  hired  adulation 
of  '  Orange  Moll '  and  laudation  of  her  '  Charity '  (stolen,  as  we 
prove,  from  an  earlier  ballad,  celebrating  good  Queen  Maria 
Beatrix,  certainly  printed  before  1688);  also  some  of  the  courtly 
mourning  for  her  death,  with  attempts  to  demonstrate  the  jocund 
urbanity  of  Saturnine  '  Dutch  William,'  in   '  Royal  Recreation,' 

x**    '' I  love  a  ballad  but  even  too  well." — Winter's  Tale,  iv. 

or  '  The  King  and  the  Forester.'  Of  the  military  ditties,  four 
do  justice  to  the  pugnacity  and  valour  of  the  (not  always) 
'Gentler'  half  of  creation:  The  Maiden  Warrior,  the  Woman 
Warrior,  the  Famous  Woman  Drummer,  and  the  She-Volunteer. 
If  women  are  unsexed,  it  speaks  ill  for  the  men's  courage. 

More  varied  is  the  rich  '  Group  of  Historical  Persons  and 
Events,'  including  '  The  Lady  Arabella'  with  other  hapless 
Stuarts ;  Thomas  Stukely,  two  ballads  on  Richard  Whittington, 
Marshal  Turenne,  the  Duke  of  Berwick,  and  sundry  combatants 
in  the  Duello  :  viz.  Sir  John  Armstrong  and  Sir  Michael 
Musgrave  ;  Sir  James  Stewart  and  Sir  George  Wharton  ;  Lord 
Mohun  and  Duke  Hamilton  ;  Sir  Robert  Berwick  and  Laird 
Graham.  Of  Events,  we  have  Plagues,  floods,  with  a  pretty 
garland  of  hanging-verses,  devoted  to  Mrs.  Arden  of  Faversham, 
George  Barnwell,  George  Saunders,  Luke  Hutton,  William 
Grismond,  John  Musgrave  of  Kendal,  and  even  poor  ill-used 
scapegoat  Captain  Johnson,  who  '  assisted  '  at  a  friend's  wedding, 
in  1690.  Curious  are  the  side-lights  thrown  on  Scottish  men's 
prejudices,  their  dislike  of  '  stage-plays,'  and  jealousy  against 
infringement  of  their  so-called  Caledonian  '  Rights.' 

We  come  next  to  a  valuable  Religious  Group.  A  few  of 
these  are  on  the  Life  and  Miracles  of  our  Lord,  seven  Christmas 
Carols,  and  a  sufficiency  of  Godly  Guides,  Lessons,  Letters,  and 
Looking-glasses  for  any  number  of  Christian  Families.  There  are 
sorrowful  mothers  and  pious  daughters,  young  men's  repentance 
and  old  men's  complaints  or  exhortations;  wonderful  prophecies, 
dreams,  Warning-pieces  to  Lewd  Livers  out  of  order ;  Alarums  to 
drowsy  sinners  in  distress,  Godly  maids  of  Leicester,  and  Kentish 
Miracles  or  Wonders,  shown  to  pious  widows.  These  have  the 
Puritanic  bias  in  theology  of  the  seventeenth-century  populace. 

We  escape  again  to  sea,  in  a  '  Second  '  and  '  Third  Group 
of  Naval  Ballads.'  Here  are  choice  rations  and  grog  galore. 
Blue  Peter  flies  aloft,  but  no  other  blue  ribbon  is  in  demand. 
Seamen's  Renown.  Folly,  Delight,  Constancy,  Love  and  Loyalty, 
Departure,  and  Return  to  their  loving  Landladies,  unhappy 
voyages,  shipwrecks,  pirates  and  privateers,  not  forgetting 
gallant  sea-fights  at  Carthagena,  1 74.1 ,  and  elsewhere;  these 
are  all  in  the  forthcoming  Peep-Show,  awaiting  the  pulling  of 
the  string,  on  the  pouring  in  of  the  guineas.     Be  in  time! 

Of  the  few  remaining  '  Political  Ditties  '  we  need  give  no 
preliminary  list.  Some  are  of  1651,  1658,  and  of  1660;  others 
of  17 1 1,  and  some  so  late  as  the  Stuart  Rising  of  1745. 

Romantic  Tales  and  Love-entanglements  are  not  quite 
exhausted;  but  the  stock  runs  low.  Nine  Robin  Hood  Ballads 
are  once  more  grouped  together.  Some  '  Female  Ramblers '  are 
gathered  into  a  '  Gaol-Delivery'  by  themselves,  to  be  treated  as 
the  Court  in  its  mercy  may  think  fit,  with  or  without  "  knocking." 

"One  morn  I  miss'd  him  on  the  '  custom' d  hill."      xi** 

(See  the  account  by  Tom  Brown  in  our  Amanda  Group,  already 
printed.)  The  remainder,  exclusive  of  the  nine  '  Sempill 
Ballads,'  temp.  1 565-1 570,  are  miscellaneous. 

Such  is  the  varied  programme  of  our  coining  entertainment. 
When  his  work  is  completed — if  haply  the  Editor  survive  to  see  it 
through    its    GENERAL   INDEX   and   the    COMBINATION 


BALLAD-INDEX  of  the  whole  seven  volumes,  doubling  its 
usefulness  —  many  opulent  persons  and  committee-men,  who 
gave  no  helping-hand,  will  be  ready  enough  to  purchase  the 
finished  achievement,  an  unrivalled  collection.  It  will  '  go  ^up 
in  the  market,'  and  be  sought  for  as  a  standard  book.  To  their 
scandal,  English  civic  librarians,  boards  of  management,  have 
never  done  anything  to  secure  it  from  being  frustrated  and 
abortive.  Much  they  cared  !  In  our  noble  enemy  France  (for 
enemy  she  has  become),  such  a  work  as  ours,  which  illustrates 
fully  the  past  history  of  the  people,  would  have  gained  a 
governmental  subsidy.  But  this  reward  never  greets  the  studious 
labourer  in  England,  denied  a  generous  '  endowment  of  research,' 
all  being  subordinated  to  party-strife  and  party-greed.  So  be  it. 
Single-handedly  we  have  done  nearly  all  the  labour  for  many 
years,  unhired  and  unrewarded.  Better  for  us  to  know  that  it 
shall  continue  to  go  on  thus  to  the  end  ;  if  only  that  end  be  the 
success  we  desired  to  make  it.  To  the  few  surviving  members 
of  the  original  '  Ballad  Society,'  who  have  been  faithful  helpers 
and  sustainers  of  the  cost  of  printing  by  their  subscriptions 
(all  they  are  asked  to  do),  we  offer  thanks  before  the  vessel 
enters  into  Port  and  we  are  no  longer  needed  at  the  Helm. 

J/TT'HEN  the  time  comes  we  must  go  ! 
**         Who  would  care  to  sit  the  fire  oat? 
Here's  a  health  to  friends  7ve  know, 
And  here's  a  frown  to  sneaking  foe  ; 
Let  whatever  tvinds  may  bloiv, 

Speed  we  hence  to  join  the  Higher  Rout. 

Somewhere,  doubtless,  must  aivait 

Fit  companions,  loved  and  trusty, 
Who  have  braved  the  storms  of  Fate, 
Scorning  to  despond  or  prate : 
There  foregather  we,  soon  or  late, 

Ere  our  lives  on  Earth  grow  rusty. 


Molash  Priory,  Ashford,  Kent. 
2ND  September,   1891. 

SD&cntia  for  Ipart  €tocntp:£Dnc. 

I70R  p.  296,  tin-  rut  i>t  a  Ropemaker  is  Riven  opposite,  on  ''  ntents,  p,  \iii**. 
Belongs  to  L. White's  '  Bad  Bnsband's  Experience '  ■  "All  you  thai  are  oounfa  >1 
<o,,>il  li'llows  tn  In-."  'I'uiir,  Many  Pounds  uml  Crowns  I  have  sptnt.   Of.  \i   848. 
For  ]>.   .'Ml,  the   Circlet  of  Dancert  forms  the  present    Frontispiece,  p.  iv**. 
P.  3«.»;i,  line  L2,  read  "haunts  the*,"  not  tlnm. 
()n  pp.  466,  -181,  was  mentioned  the  tone  of,  /  low  you  man  and  more  took 

day.    This  is  the  first  line  of  a  ballad,  printed  with  three  stavet  oi  io  for 

C.  Bates,  next  the  Crown  Tavern,  in    West  SmithJUld,  eiroa   1890.    Title  i>, 
•The  Constanl  Lover's   Lamentation;  or,  Faithful  Hephoetion's  Love  to  False 
ia.     1;<  milt  a  New  Bong  much  in  request  at  Court.    'I'"  a  oevi  Tune.' 
(Pepys  Coll.,  Y.  299,  unique).    This '  Ni  ^  Bong  '  furnished  tin  motiv  :  — 

Clic  paeoionnrc  Lourv. 

Love  thee  nunc  ami  more  each  day,  fairest  of  earthly  oreatun 
In  Temples  I  forge!  to  pray,  by  gazing  on  thj  features. 
'  'hy  face  does  my  Free-will  oontroul  ;  in  thee  [*ve  Preservation, 
Take  pity,  then,  ami  gave  thy  Dear,  have  pity  then, 
And  savi  In  r  from  relation. 

Eeav'ngaveto  Man  in  Paradise  hi  thai  were  uncommon ; 

Hut  all  wi  re  Trifles  to  the  l«li-s  of  soul-delighting  Woman. 
Love  mi' !  whate'i  r  may  he  my  Doom,  'tis  thee  1  am  pursuing 
Love  me!  or  else  I  ai idone,  lam  undone, 

Oh  h.ii    '  ni-  ahw  I'm  iiiin'il. 

'in  tin  game  p.  481  is  mentioned  another  tune,  The  Guinea  wins  im-.  it 
belonged  to  a  broadside  ballad,  in  white-letter,  eired  1694,  Ave  itanzas,  'An 
excellent  Nen  Bong,  called  The  [ntreaguesoi  Love;  or,  One  Worth  a  Thousand. 

'I'u  a  pleasant   new  Turn  '     One  edition  (Pepys  ('nil.,  \.  215    wai  printed  for 

who  published  'The  London  Libertine,' 
tin- -aim- tum- :  another  edition   Jersey, III.  printedfoi  Charles  Burnet, 

./.  Seienet   in  the  Great  Old  /;<iri,,/,  win.  published  'The  London  Libertine,1  t'> 

CIic  Guinea  LUim  loci. 

HOw  happy  are  we,  when  we  meet  with  a  Beauty, 
Thai  i-  charming  ami  free,  ami  knows  more  than  her  Dntj  : 
Women  they  were  made  for  nun  [ to  tame],  the  Gods  above  allow  tin    ame, 
But  tiii-  cunning  Creature  will  not  yield  to  Nature, 
Nor  will  let  you  [win  suit],  unless  you  court  hex  to  '<, 
.\nil  give  hi  i  gold  to  bi 

Hut  you    yon  mil  t  i  a  for  to  in-  true. 

■  when  thi  her,  -In'-  at  your  Devotion, 

Shell  freel]  !•  t  you     an.  Sir,  ami  meet  you  in  tin-  motion  : 
I     then,  if  you  behold  her  eyi  ,  how  they  roll  when  at  the   port   ne[ti 
im n-  tin-  white,  ami  then  -In-   hut-  them  quite, 
Ami  tin n  with  ail  in  r  might  the   eemi  bei  lips  to  bite, 
Ami  swears  you're  bei  delight : 

Such  jo  uev(  i  i.  It  tin-  like  before  ■  .  . 

Hut  where*!  the  Charming  Beauty,  that  con  taut  is,  ami  loyal, 

That  loves  ami  mil  hi  tin,  t'  ye,  when  put  to  the  tryalP 

Although  you'll  Guineas  give  bei  down,  yet  ibe  no  ways  can  be  like  the  I 

in-' II  he   jut  ami  true,  ami  l[ov]e  with  man-  hut  \,,u  ; 

While  the  jiltin      Ls     next  door]  let    you  and  th  mom 

I  .:•  i    0*(  i    ami  - 

Ai  re.  JFiiu's. 

[T/iis  Rope-Maker  belongs  to  p.  296.] 


(Being  the  Second  portion  of  Final  Volume,  Seren.) 


l'nhule  on  Tifh'-pnqc  :  A  Chansonnette v '''""' 

Editorial  Preface  to  Pari  XXL vii** 

A  Son--  ot  Country  Life,  1637 ix** 

"  When  the  time  conns,  ice  must  go." xi*H: 

The  Passionate  Lover  :  "  I  love  thee  more  and  more  "  .     .  xii** 

The  Guinea  Wins  Her:   "  How  happy  are  we"       .      .     .  Jbid 

3  Croup  of  fttcinj  xlbucntuvcs  (Bed.  to  W  R.  Wilson,  Esq.)  241 

A.  Way  to  Woo  a  Witty  Wench 244 

The  Maiden's  Nay  ;  or,  I  love  not  You.     By  E.  H[ayhurst  ?]  247 

The  West  Country  Jig ;  or,  Love  in  due  Season.  ^    ....  250 
The    West    Country    Wooing ;    or,   Merry-conceited   Couple. 

Probably  by  John  Wade  ?     .     . 252 

A  Serious  Discourse  between  Two  Lovers.     By  John  Wade   .  255 

Predestined  Love  :  "Pastora's  Beauties." 266 

Tom  and  Will;  or,  The  Shepherds' Sheep-fold 257 

The  West  Country  Dialogue;  Aniseed  Robin  and  Jack.     .     .  200 

Downright  Wooing,  of  Country  William  and  Pretty  Peggy      .  262 

A  Shepherd  fallen  in  Love  ;  A  Pastoral,  1635  •     .     .      .  265 

The  Xew  Courtier:    '  Have  at  All.'         266 

TheTombsin  Westminster  Abbey.     By  Edw.  or  John  Phillips  268 

The  Greal  Boobee 273 

The  Down-right  Country-Man  ;  or,  Faithful  Dairy-Maid       .  276 

"Adieu  to  the  Curse  of  a  Country  Life!"    L681  ....  277 

The  Citizen's  Vindication  against  the  Down-right  Country-man  278 

The  Sorrowful  Citizen ;  or,  the  Conragious  Plow-man  .     .     .  27;) 


The  Londoner's  Answer  to  Down-right  Dick  of  the  West .     .  282 

The  Merry  Plow-man  and  Loving  Milk-maid 284 

Country  Girl's  Policy  ;  or,  The  Cockney  Outwitted       .     .     .  286 

The  Plow- man's  Prase,  in  answer  to  the  Bonny  Milk-maid    .  288 

The  Loving  Lad  and  the  Coy  Lass  :    Will  and  Jane  ....  289 

Women's  Just  Complaint,  against  Man's  Deceitfulness  in  Love.  292 

The  Young  Man's  Besolution,  etc.     By  J.  S.,  or  S.  P.       .     .  295 

The  Maiden's  Beply  to  the  Young  Man's  Besolution     .     .     .  297 

The  Lover's  Prophecy.     Possibly  by  Tobias  Bowne       .     .     .  299 
Young  Man's  Lamentation ;  or  Love  and  Loyalty  rewarded 

with  Cruelty 300 

The  Maid's  Answer  to  the  Young  Man's  Lamentation  .     .     .  301 

Play-house  Song,  the  Bonny  Grey-eyed  Mora,  by  Tom  D'Urfey  302 

Pretty  Kate  of  Edinburgh.     Original  by  Tom  D'Urfey       .     .  304 

The  Scotch  Wooing :  Jockey  of  the  Lough  and  Jenny  (see  p.  348)  305 

Merry  Wooing  of  Robin  and  Joan  :  The  West-Country  Lovers  308 

The  Wedding  of  Arthur  o' Bradley  :  version  of  1656     .     .     .  314 

The  Ballad  of  Arthur  of  Bradley  :  version  of  1661   ....  317 

A  Round,  1609 :  "  Sing  with  thy  mouth, sing  with  thy  heart."  3 1 9 

Arthur  o'Bradley  :  Boxburghe  broadside  version,  before  1778  320 

Love's  Mystery ;  or,  A  Parcel  of  Clouded  "Waggery  .     .     .  322 

The  Mystery  Discovered  ;  or,  Frolic  upon  Frolic 323 

The  Merry  Bag-pipes  :   The  Pleasant  Pastime,  etc 326 

The  Nobleman's  Generous  Kindness;  or,  the  Country-man,  etc.  329 

The  Knitter's  Job;  or,  The  earnest  Suitor  of  Walton  Town.  331 

The  Bachelor's  Ballad ;  or,  A  Bemedy  against  Love.     .     .     .  334 
The    Maid's    Answer   to   the   Bachelor's   BaUad ;    or,    Love 

without  Bemedy 336 

The  Country  Lover's  Conquest  in  winning  a  Coy  Lass  .     .     .  338 

Merry  Country  Maid's  Answer  to  Country  Lover's  Conquest.  340 

The  West-Country  Jig  ;  or,  A  Trenchmore  Galliard.     .     .     .  343 

A  Meeting :  ' '  The  Old  Coach-road  thro'  a  common  of  furze.' '  345 

Joan's  Sorrowful  Lamentation  ;  or,  False-hearted  John.     .     .  346 
A   Maidenhead    Ill-bestowed ;    or,  Dialogue   betwixt   Jenny 

and  Jockey  (Incongruous  Sequel  to  p.  305)     .       ...  348 

Jenny,  Jenny ;  or,  the  False-hearted  Knight  and  Kind  Lass  .  350 

Some  MtIIom=Grrm  Ballata 352 

Give  me  the  Willow  Garland  ;  or,  The  Maiden's  Fear.     By 

Laurence  Price 353 

The  Willow  Green  ;  or,  The  Distressed  Lover's  Complaint.     .  355 

The  Willow  Green  turned  into  White  ;  or,  Young  Man's  Joy  357 

Cupid's  Trappan  ;  or,  "Up  the  Green  Forest,  etc 359 

Bachelor's  Fore-cast ;  or,  Cupid  Lnblest :   Answer  to  Cupid's 

Trappan 361 

Scotch  Lad's  Moan  ;  Moggie's  Unkindness.     By  T.  D'Urfey  .  364 




The  Merry  Man's  Resolution  ;  or,  A  London  Frolic.     By  T.  J.  366 

The  Wanton  Wife  of  Castle-Gate  ;  or,  The  Boat-man's  Delight.  369 

Jealous  Nanny  ;  or,  False-hearted  "Willy  Turned  True  .     .     .  372 

The  Forlorn  Damsel.     Perhaps  by  John  Wade          ....  374 

"When  Beggars  do  marry,  for  better,  for  worse."     1729    .  375 

The  Knight  and  the  Beggar- Wench 376 

The  Merchant's  Son  and  the  Beggar- Wench  of  Hull     .     .     .  379 

The  Forsaken  Maid's  Frolic  ;  or,  a  Farewell  to  Fond  Love     .  380 

The  False  Knight  Outwitted :  A  New  Song 383 

The  Disconsolate  Nymph  :   and,  The  Swain's  Answer    .     .     .  385 

Dead  and  Alive  :  A  Ditty  out  of  Gloucestershire.  By  L.  Price  387 

"  Had  she  not  care  enough  of  her  Old  Man?"   Before  1670  391 

Editorial  Finale,  to  l  Group  of  Merry  Adventures'*      .     .  392 

£omc  Ballaos  of  SLobe's  fHtschanceg    ....  393 

Editorial  Prelude Ibid 

Cromlef's  Lilt :   with  Her  Reply 396 

Another  Reply  (unauthentic,  but  Roxburghe)  to  Cromlet's  Lilt  397 

The  Young  Man's  Unfortunate  Destiny.  Possibly  by  T.  Bowne  399 

The  Frowns  of  Fate;  an  Answer  to  Unfortunate  Destiny.  Ibid  401 

The  Westminster  Lovers  :  Thomas  and  Isabella       ....  403 

The  Lamented  Lovers ;  or,  Grief  for  the  Unhappy  Tragedy    .  405 

The  Tormented  Lovers  :  "  O  Love,  if  e'er  thou'lt  ease  a  Heart  "  408 

The  Ruined  Lovers  :  Being  a  Rare  Narrative,  etc 411 

Love's  Tyranny  ;  or,  Death  more  welcome  than  Disdain      .     .  413 
Love's  Torments  eased  by  Death ;    or,  Lovers  delay'd  grow 

Desperate.     By  Tom  D'Urfey 415 

A  Mournful  Carol :  Frankin  and  Cordelius 418 

The  Woful  Complaint  and  Death  of  a  Forsaken  Lover       .     .  422 

Editorial  Finale  to  ' Love's  Mischances  :  The  Fleeting  Sour  424 

Some  Complaints  of  Millers 425 

The  Witty  Maid  of  the  West ;  or,  the  Miller  well  Thrashed  .  426 

West-Country  Lawyer;    or,  Witty  Maid's  Good  Fortune  .     .  428 

General  aggrarjateo  '  Complaints ' 429 

The  Dying  Lover's  Complaint 430 

The  Cuckold's  Complaint :   or,  the  Turbulent  Wife's  Severe 

Cruelty 431 

The  Hen-peckt  Cuckold  ;  or,  The  Cross-grain'd  Wife   .     .     .  432 

The  Wife's  Answer  to  the  Hen-peckt  Cuckold's  Complaint     .  433 

The  Young  Lady's  Complaint.     By  Laurence  White       .    .     .  435 

The  Courteous  Knight.     1609 '  .     .  437 

"  Apres  ma  journee  faite." 438 

"Eh!  qui  vous  passera  le  Bois."        Ibid. 

The  Baffled  Knight ;  or,  the  Lady's  Policy.     In  Four  Parts.  439 

Love's  Triumph  over  Bashfulness.     Originally  by  D'Urfey     .  442 

Love's  Power 445 

The  Loving  Chamber-maid  ;  or,  Vindication  of  a  Departed,  etc.  447 





Love's  Chronicle.     By  Abraham  Cowley 449 

The  Zealous  Lover  :   "  Come,  prethee  Love." 451 

The  Mistaken  Lover:  or,  the  Supposed  Ungrateful  Creature,  etc.  454 

Love  in  a  Bush  ;  or,  the  Two  Loyal  Lovers'  Joys  Completed.  455 

The  Easter  Wedding  ;  or  the  Bridegroom's  Joy  in  his  Bride     .  457 

The  Hasty  Bridegroom  :   "  Come  from  the  Temple."     .     .     .  458 

Cumberland  Nelly,  "There  was  a  Lass  in  Cumberland."     .  463 

The  Lass  of  Cumberland.     (Another  early  Version.)       .     .  464 

The  Cumberland  Laddy.    (Imitation  of  '  Cumberland  Lass '.)  465 

2Tam  the  GTaglor  @roup       .  466 

The  Trappan'd  Taylor ;  or,  A  Warning  to  all  Taylors,  etc.     .  467 

The  London  Taylor's  Misfortune  ;  or,  Cutbeard  Harding    .     .  470 

Poor  Tom  the  Taylor  ;  his  Lamentation 472 

The  Taylor's  Lamentation 474 

The  Country  Maiden's  Lamentation,  for  the  Loss  of  her  Taylor  475 

The  Wonder  of  Wonders  :  a  six-legged  Creature      ....  477 

A  Bloody  Battle  between  a  Taylor,  etc 478 

A  Dreadful  Battle  between  a  Taylor,  etc.  By  John  Taylor      .  479 

The  Taylor's  Vindication ;  an  Answer  to  the  Warlike  Taylor  480 

Oxfordshire  Betty,  her  Letter  to  Tom  the  Taylor     .     .      .     .  481 

"  What  shall  I  do  to  show  how  much  I  love  her  ?"      .      .  482 

The  Taylor's  Wanton  Wife  of  Wapping ,     .  483 

Touch  and  Go  ;  or,  The  French  Taylor  Trapann'd    ....  485 

Lamentation  of  Seven  Journeymen  Taylors.      (samples)      .  487 

Editorial  Finale  to  Part  XXL     '  If  the  Boor  is  lock'd.''  .  488 

&  Srcontj  ©roup  of  Nautical  Ballafos   ....  489 

The  Mariner's  Delight,  with  Seven  Wives 490 

The  Maidens  of  London  their  brave  Adventures 491 

Faithful  Jemmy  and  Constant  Susan,  living  at  RedrifFe     .     .  493 

The  Gallant  Seaman's  Besolution 495 

***  For  Announcement  of  Contents  of  next  Part  see  Preface. 

-  'J  WE 


31  ©roup  of  fl^errp  2ittoentuves* 


WILLIAM      ROBERT      WILSON,      ESQ., 





' '  Give  me  music,  give  me  rapture, 
Youth  that's  fled  can  none  recapture  ; 
Not  with  thought  is  wisdom  bought. 
Out  on  pride  and  scorn  and  sadness  ! 
Give  me  laughter,  give  me  gladness.  .  .   . 

"  While  sweet  fancies  meet  me  singing, 
While  the  April  blood  is  springing 

In  my  breast,  while  a  jest 
And  my  youth  thou  yet  must  leave  me, 
Fortune,  'tis  not  thou  can'st  grieve  me." 

— Margaret  L.  Woods  :  Gaudeamus. 

GROUP  of  Ballads  on  Merry  Adventures 
may  fitly  lead  off  the  dance  in  this  second- 
third  of  our  Final  Boiburrjhe  Uclume.  Rough 
practical  jokes  are  unpleasant  manifestations 
of  English  humour,  especially  when  they 
chance  to  be  directed  against  ourselves.  "We 
are  told  on  the  highest  authority  that  "  a 
jest's  prosperity  lies  in  the  ear  of  him  that 
hears  it,  never  in  the  tongue  of  him  that 
makes  it "  (Love's  Labour's  Lost,  v.  2). 
"Walter  Shandy,  father  of  the  renowned 
Tristram,  declared  that  "  Everything  in  this  world  is  big  with  jest, 
and  has  wit  in  it,  and  instruction  too — if  we  can  but  find  it  out." 
(T.S.,  torn.  v.  cap.  xxxii.)  Corporal  Trim  acknowledged  the 
difficulty  about  jokes  to  be  the  knowing  how  best  they  may  be  cut. 
Some  people  would  amputate  them  altogether,  in  a  '  thorough 
Reformation  ' ;  but  such  irreconcileable  Puritans  must  be  debarred 
the  Court,  and  forbidden  to  enter  the  hallowed  precincts  of  Ballad- 
Land.  It  is  a  goodly  territory,  as  our  editorial  map  will  show,  and 
we  are  still  content  to  dwell  therein  with  a  jovial  company.  It 
has  kept  life  from  becoming  wearisome,  which  is  more  than  can  be 
said  in  favour  of  many  articles  that  are  highly  priced  in  the  market. 
"And  your  experience  makes  you  sad?  1  had  rather  have  a" 
[song]  "to  make  me  merry,  than  experience  to  make  me  sad: 
and  to  travel  for  it  too  !  " 

VOL.    VII. 


242  "  Sport,  that  wrinkled  Care  derides  : 

In  le  meilleur  des  monies  2)ossibIes  the  riches,  public  honours  and 
adulation  of  time-servers  are  equitably  withheld  from  falling  to  the 
lot  of  '  Good  Fellows,'  whose  contented  disposition  suffices  to  make 
them  happy,  without  need  of  such  extraneous  gewgaws.  It  would 
disturh  the  balance  if  the  so-called  prizes  of  success  were  to  fall  to 
their  share.  Providence  knows  its  own  business,  better  than  the 
Archbishops  and  Lord  Chancellors,  creatures  of  an  hour.  So  the 
fat  things  of  the  earth,  the  wine  on  the  lees,  are  apportioned 
generously  to  the  ill-conditioned  grumbling  hirelings,  who  could 
not  do  without  them ;  while  the  happier  fellows,  independent  of 
present  praise  or  pudding,  may  possess  their  souls  in  peace,  and 
have  the  raciest  enjoyment  of  a  joke  or  a  ballad  as  compensation 
for  lucre  relinquished.  This  is  a  fairer  '  Partition  of  the  Earth ' 
than  Schiller  described  for  us  in  his  poem. 

A  sense  of  humour  has  been  rightly  claimed  as  the  inalienable 
possession  of  the  highest  intelligence ;  and  although  a  very  few  of 
our  true  poets,  Schiller  himself,  Dante,  Milton,  Shelley,  and,  we 
fear  it  must  be  added,  Tennyson,  have  so  little  developed  in  their 
works  this  subtle  element  of  mirthful  enjoyment,  even  they  have 
left  some  fragmentary  tokens  in  evidence  that  they  did  not  utterly 
fail  to  see  the  ridiculous  aspect  of  certain  events  or  characters.  A 
happier  blend  of  the  humourist  might  have  made  their  own  lives 
brighter,  by  saving  them  from  exaggeration  of  sentiment  or  ferocity 
of  earnestness.  But  few  reformers  or  regenerators  possess  any 
balance  of  judgement.  They  stare  themselves  blind  at  some  theo- 
retical ideal,  and  cannot  tolerate  the  unavoidable  imperfections  of  a 
world  that  holds  admixture  of  discordant  elements.  One  turns  in 
gratitude  to  the  most  complete  and  largely-loving  dramatist  and 
poet  ever  seen  :  our  Shakespeaee.  He  alone  holds  the  sceptre  of 
universal  empire.  No  mere  jester,  no  sentimentalist  preacher  and 
moralist,  no  wearisome  analyst,  murdering  to  dissect  and  destroying 
the  machine  to  investigate  its  mechanism  ;  no  giddy  romancer  and 
weaver  of  complex  entanglements ;  he  paints  his  landscape  simply 
because  it  is  a  necessary  background ;  he  suffuses  it  with  sun- 
shine, or  with  moonbeams  and  starlight,  at  his  own  sweet  will;  and 
lets  the  air  be  flooded  with  melody  and  the  scent  of  flowers  that  he 
loves  :  but  it  is  human  interest,  in  the  inexhaustible  profusion  of 
his  creative  genius,  that  he  leads  us  to  behold  and  understand. 
Every  variety  of  high  or  low,  the  coarsest  clown  or  rustic,  the  most 
refined  and  pure  enthusiast,  finds  in  him  alike  a  sympathiser  and 
delineator,  supreme  and  unrivalled. 

We  pity  those  literary  Eunuchs  who  cannot  enjoy  the  vast 
resources  of  the  comic  writers.  Fastidious  cavillers,  for  whom 
Rabelais  is  too  obscene,  and  Butler  too  polemical :  they  fasten 
eagerly  on  every  fault  or  flaw.  Ingoldsby  is  too  uproarious,  and 
Hood  too  punningly  persistent,  Byron  too  versatile,  and  Burns  too 

And  Laughter,  holding  both  his  sides." — Milton.       243 

provincial,  to  win  their  suffrages.  They  have  enough  knowledge 
to  make  themselves  disagreeable,  by  enabling  them  to  disparage 
what  they  are  incapable  of  enjoying.  Such  people  are  requested  to 
avoid  these  Roxburghe  Ballads.  We  leave  outside,  upon  the  door- 
mat, unmitigated  offences  that  cannot  be  deodorized  or  cleansed, 
devoid  alike  of  mirthfulness  and  of  decency ;  but  we  disclaim  the 
being  prudish  or  Puritanical.  "VVe  find  room  for  one  outspoken  lassie, 
'  Cumberland  Nelly,''  also  'The  Londoner's  Answer  to  Downright  Dick 
of  the  West '  :  as  substitutes  for  the  excluded  irredeemables.  The 
old  strife  between  Town  and  Country  finds  fresh  expression  in 
several  of  these  merry  encounters,  when  a  '  Great  Boobee  '  from 
some  rural  quagmire  comes  to  meet  misadventures  in  our  '  little 
Village-on-Thames,'  an  epitome  of  the  civilized  world,  with  its  vices 
and  its  virtues ;  while  a  '  Couragious  Citizen '  shows  us  the  other 
side  of  the  shield,  and  speaks  manfully  in  its  defence. 

Of  course  there  are  dialogues  between  lovers,  more  or  less  at 
cross-purposes,  maidens  coy  and  deceptive,  pretending  to  be  un- 
willing to  yield ;  yet  certain  to  resent  being  taken  too  quickly  at 
their  word.  On  the  whole,  their  stories  end  happily,  as  all  true 
love  ought  to  do.  Since  accidents  happen  in  the  best  regulated 
families,  shepherds  '  Tom  and  Will '  are  both  jilted  by  their  fickle 
fair  Pastora;  in  which  tale  we  discern  allusions  to  some  Court 
intrigue  not  wholly  undecipherable.  Sylvan  haunts  are  deserted 
by  the  nymph  for  the  glitter  of  Whitehall ;  but  what  came  of  her 
ultimately  is  not  revealed,  unless  it  be  similar  to  the  Comte  de 
Gramont's  later  tale  of  Miss  Warmestre.  If  we  tire  of  Town- 
ladies,  we  can  return  to  loving  Milkmaids,  who  were  always  dear 
to  the  ballad-writer.  The  interchange  of  saucy  remonstrances  and 
rebukes  between  Bachelors  and  Maidens  are  here  at  last  developed 
in  full,  the  companion  ditties  being  brought  together  after  having 
been  dissevered  for  more  than  two  centuries.  We  thus  gradually 
tell  the  whole  complicated  story  of  '  Cupid's  Trappan,'  and  show 
the  varying  colours  of  the  '  willow  green,'  sometimes  '  turned  into 
white  '  and  sometimes  'turned  into  carnation.' 

If  we  choose  to  wander  into  the  risky  drolleries  of  the  '  Baffled 
Knight,'  seeing  whether  a  maid  knows  how  to  save  herself  from 
an  awkward  misadventure,  putting  her  persecutor  to  open  shame, 
we  may  remember  the  series  of  D'Urfey's  '  Cold  and  Raw '  ballads 
(see  pp.  233-237),  not  improbably  written  as  a  reminiscence  of  the 
early  and  widely-spread  legend.  Here  is  also  the  ditty  of  the 
Beggar-wench,  who  punishes  a  luckless  libertine,  by  leaving  him 
to  go  home  on  foot,  when  his  horse  has  escaped  him,  encumbered 
with  her  bag  of  broken-victuals.  He  meets  the  ridicule  of  his 
friends  and  the  curtain-lectures  of  his  spouse.  "There  is  not  only 
disgrace  and  dishonour  in  that,  but  an  infinite  loss  !  " 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  560  ;  Rawlinson,  197;  Huth,  I.  79.] 

[31  toap  to  WLoo  a  ZKHtttp  OHenct) ;] 

A  Dialogue  between  two  Lovers,  who  meeting  one  day, 
The  Young-man  desired  the  Maiden  to  stay  ; 
The  Maid  [sh]e  was  witty  her  self  to  defend, 
And  so  they  concluded  the  match  in  the  end. 

To  A  pleasant  new  Tune,  \C(,me,  Siveet-heart,  and  embrace  thine  own,']  Or, 
Musff rove's  March.     [See  Note,  p.  246.] 


OMy  clearest,  do  not  grieve,  for  I  will  prove  ever  kind  ; 
Say  no  more !  thou  mayst  believe,  nothing  but  death  sball 
change  my  mind : 
0  then  let  nothing  grieve  thee,  for  I  vow  thou  may'st  believe  me ; 
That  I  do  love  thee  ;  that  I  do  love  thee, 
Come,  Sweetheart,  and  embrace  thine  own. 


0  sweet  Sir,  I  cannot  stay,  my  mistress  sent  me  out  in  haste, 

1  pray  you  chuse  some  other  place,  for  so  much  time  I  dare  not  waste, 
Lest  that  my  Mistress  chide  ;  then,  Sir,  what  will  me  betide  ? 

1  dare  not  tarry,  lest  I  miscarry , 

Farewell,  I  must  be  gone.  1 0 


Turn  not  thy  fair  eyes  away,  neither  leave  me  here  in  scorn, 
To  torment  me  every  day,  and  to  leave  me  quite  forlorn  ; 
For  it  is  a  terrible  pain,  to  love  and  not  be  lov'd  again. 

Then  take  some  pitty,  then  take  some  pitty, 

Sweetheart,  for  I  am  thine  own. 


O  good  Sir,  what  think  you  of  this,  all  that  glitters  is  not  gold? 
You  may  believe  that  true  it  is,  that  maidens  must  not  be  so  bold. 
Young-men  having  had  their  pleasure,  leave  them  to  repent  at  leisure : 

Therefore  forbear  me,  Come  not  near  me; 

Hands  off,  for  I  must  be  gone.  20 


Thy  favour  is  more  sweet  to  me,  far  more  precious  than  is  gold, 
When  shall  I  thy  husband  be  ?  prethee,  Sweetheart,  say  and  hold : 
0  that  it  were  to-morrow,  that  it  might  release  my  sorrow. 

Bo  not  disdain  me,  do  not  disdaiti  me, 

Come  kiss,  and  embrace  thine  own. 

A  Way  to  Woo  a  Witty  Wench  :  245 


If  that  be  all  you  have  to  say,  I  mean  to  lead  a  single  life, 
Home  was  not  builded  in  a  day,  nor  I  so  soon  am  made  a  AVife. 
First  I  mean  to  try  your  breeding,  ere  I  yield  to  your  proceeding : 

0  now  forbear  me,  Do  not  come  near  me  ! 

Hands  off,  for  I  must  be  gone.  30 

2Efte  <&ECcmo  4^art,  to  the  same  Tune. 


SWeet,  think  upon  the  former  vow,  which  I  to  thee  did  make, 
I  have  kept  it  until  now,  and  will  ever  for  thy  sake : 
Then  let  not  thy  unkindness  dim  thine  eyes  with  too  much  blindness : 
For  I  do  love  thee,  for  I  do  love  thee, 
Come,  Sweetheart,  and  embrace  thine  own. 


0  good  Sir,  there's  none  so  blind,  as  those  that  may,  yet  will  not  see  ; 

1  know  which  way  you  are  inclin'd,  indeed  you  are  too  quick  for  me. 
Hot  love  is  quickly  cooled,  therefore  I  will  not  be  fooled. 

0  fie,  forbear  me,  Do  not  come  near  me  ! 

Hands  off,  for  I  must  be  gone.  40 


I  prethee  give  me  leave  to  touch  or  to  kiss  thy  milk-white  hand, 
"Wer't  thy  lips  thou  need'st  not  grutch,  for  I  am  at  thy  command  : 
0  do  thou  not  disdain  me,  for  thy  frowns  hath  almost  slain  me  ; 

So  dear  I  love  thee,  so  dear  I  love  thee, 

Come,  kiss,  and  embrace  thine  own. 


It  is  not  for  a  kiss  or  two  which  so  much  I  do  stand  upon, 
If  that  be  all  you  mean  to  do,  take  it  quickly  and  be  gone ; 
For  a  kiss  is  but  a  trifle,  yet  be  sure  and  do  not  rifle  ; 

Lest  you  undo  me,  lest  you  undo  me  ; 

Hands  off,  for  I  must  be  gone.  50 


0  but  give  me  leave  to  twine  both  mine  arms  about  thy  waste  : 
And  let  the[se]  pale  lips  of  mine  [be]  betwixt  thy  rubies  plac't : 
Come,  Sweetheart,  and  let's  be  doing,  fie  upon  this  tedious  wooing  ; 

For  I  do  love  thee,  for  I  do  love  thee, 

Come,  hiss,  and  embrace  thine  own. 

216  A  Dialogue  between  Two  Lovers. 


0  good  Sir,  your  snapping  short  is  that  which  makes  you  look  so  lean  ; 
As  for  your  kiss  I  thank  you  for't,  but  now  I  know  not  what  you  mean: 
To  tear  my  cloaths  in  sunder,  what's  your  intention  I  wonder. 

0  fie,  forbear  me  ;  do  not  so  fear  me  !  V  fear'=frighten. 

Hands  off,  for  I  must  be  gone.  60 


0  Sweetheart,  be  thou  content,  for  I  mean  no  harm  at  all, 
Thou  shalt  not  need  for  to  repent,  for  whatsoever  shall  befall : 
Neither  thought  I  to  abuse  thee,  onely  kiss  and  kindly  use  thee. 

What  I  did  by  thee,  was  but  to  try  thee  : 

Come,  Sweetheart,  and  embrace  thine  own. 


Then,  sweet  Sir,  if  this  be  true,  which  you  unto  me  do  say, 
I'll  be  constant  unto  you  ;  O  that  I  durst  but  longer  stay  ! 
Come,  kiss  once  again,  and  spare  not,  Though  my  Mistress  see,  I 
care  not ; 

For  I  do  love  thee,  no  man  above  thee, 

Come,  Sweetheart,  and  embrace  thine  own.  70 


Printed  for  F.  Coles,  T.  Fere,  J.  Wright,  and  J.  Clark. 

[In  Black-letter.  Woodcut,  a  debased  copy  of  one  on  p.  148  ;  cf.  vol.  iii.  p.  431. 
Date,  before  1681.     We  recover  the  top-line  of  the  title  from  Rawlinson's.] 

*  A  Note  on  the  Times. 

Tbe  '  pleasant  new  tune '  may  have  been  an  original,  one  that  afterwards  bore 
the  name  of  Come,  Sweetheart,  and  embrace  thine  own.  As  Musgrove's  March 
it  is  not  yet  identified,  unless  it  be  the  same  (not  improbably)  as  Down  Plumpton 
Park ;  so  named  from  the  burden  of  a  ballad  called  '  The  Lamentation  of 
John  Musguove,  who  was  executed  at  Kendal  for  robbing  the  King's 
Receiver.'  Begins,  "  To  lodge  it  was  my  chance  of  late,  at  Kendal  in  the  'Sizes 
week  ;  "  and  this  was  sung  to  the  tune  of  Wharton  ;  meaning  the  duel  between 
Stewart  and  Wharton.     Both  ballads  will  be  re-printed  in  this  volume. 

Of  the  several  tunes  belonging  to  the  following  ballads,  "  a  pleasant  new  Tune  " 
may  be  taken  literally  as  one  composed  expressly  for  the  ballad,  but  in  general 
this  was  only  where  an  original  song  '  with  a  playhouse  Time '  had  been  the 
foundation  of  the  broadside  extended-version.  We  shall  gladly  track  home  and 
identify  the  tune  named  New  Exeter  for  the  '  West-Country  Jigg ;  or,  Love  in 
due  season.'  There  is  another  '  West-Country  Jigg  ;  or,  A  Trenchmore 
Galliard'  (Roxb.  Coll.,  II.  502;  Euing,  385),  beginning  "Jack's,  a  naughty 
boy,  for  calling  his  mother  ..ore,"  and  with  a  burden  of  Then  up  with  Aley, 
Aley,  up  with  Frank  so  free,  In  came  wan/on  Willy,  and  snuggled  them  handsomt  ly ; 
— to  a  merry  Scotch  tune,  or  Up  with  Aley:  which  is  of  value  as  identifying  the 
scrap  of  song  in  the  revival  of  Sir  John  Vanbrugh's  comedy  of  "The  Provoked 
Wife,"  act  iv.  scene  2,  1725  {London  Stage  edition,  vol.  iii.  No.  95). 



[Roxb.  Coll.,  II.  336  ;  Pepys,  I.  298  ;  Jersey,  I.  248  ;  Rawlinson,  165  vo.] 

%\)t  fllBattien's  J12ap ; 

£)r,  3  ILotie  not  pou* 

To    A   PLEASANT    NEW   TlJNE    [its    Own]. 

Spied  a  Nymph  trip  over  the  plain, 
I  lur'd  to  her,  she  turned  again, 
I  woo'd  her  as  a  young  man  should  do ; 

But  her  answer  was,  "  Sir,  Hove  not  you" 

I  thought  she  seemed  in  every  part 
So  lovely  fram'd  by  Nature's  Art, 
Her  beauty  soon  allured  me  to  wooe  ; 

But  her  answer  was,  "  Sir,  I  love  not  you."  8 

I  told  her  all  the  sweet  of  love, 

And  whatsoever  her  mind  might  move, 

To  entertain  a  Lover  true  ; 

But  her  answer  was,  "  Sir,  Hove  not  you." 

I  told  her  how  I  would  her  deck, 

Her  head  with  gold,  with  pearls  her  neck ; 

She  gave  a  frown,  and  away  she  flew, 

But  her  answer  was,  "  Sir,  Hove  not  you."  16 

"  Not  me  !  (sweet-heart)  0  tell  me  why, 
Thou  should'st  my  proffered  love  deny? 
To  whom  my  heart  I  have  vowed  so  true ;  " 
But  her  answer  was,  "  Sir,  I  love  not  you." 

"  My  sweet  and  dearest  love,"  quoth  I, 
"  Art  thou  resolv'd  a  Maid  to  die  ? 
Of  such  a  mind  I  know  but  few ;  " 

But  her  answer  was,  "  Sir,  I  love  not  you."  24 

"  This  is  the  pleasant  Maying- time, 
This  is  the  pleasant  golden  prime, 
But  age  will  come,  and  make  you  to  rue 
That  e're  you  said,  '  Sir,  I  love  not  you.' 

"  0  do  not  thou  my  suit  disdain, 
Nor  make  me  spend  my  time  in  vain, 
But  kindly  grant  a  Lover's  due: " 

Yet  still  she  said,  "  Sir,  Hove  not  you."  32 

"  Fair  Nymph,"  quoth  I,  "  but  grant  me  this, 
To  enrich  my  lips  with  one  poor  kiss." 
"  I  grant  you  that  which  I  grant  but  few  :  " 
Yet  still  she  said,  "Sir,  1  love  not  you." 

248  The  Maiden's  Nay  ;  or,  *  I  love  not  Yon.' 

The  young  man  proffering  then  to  depart 
It  griev'd  this  Maiden  then  to  the  heart : 
For  having  kist,  0  then  did  she  rue, 

That  e're  she  said,  "  Sir,  I  love  not  you?''  40 

Wherefore  with  speed  she  thought  it  best 
To  stay  him  by  her  kind  request : 
Whose  coyness  thus  hath  caus'd  her  to  rue 
That  e're  she  said,  "Sir,  I  love  not  your 

But  now  at  last  she  did  begin 
With  gentle  words  to  lure  him  in : 
The  second  part  shall  plainly  shew, 

She  chang'd  her  note  of  "  /  love  not  you."  48 

2The  Scconti  ^part,  to  the  same  Tune. 

"Kind  sir,"  quoth  she,  "what  needs  this  hasl[e]  ?" 
With  that  a  smile  on  him  she  cast ; 
Shame  curb'd  her  long,  but  affection  drew 
These  words,  "  I  love  no  man  but  you. 

' '  I  feel  the  force  of  Cupid's  dart 

So  deep  hath  pierc'd  my  tender  heart : 

Believe  me  then,  for  my  words  are  true, 

You  will  I  love,  Sir,  and  none  but  you.  56 

"  Do  not  deny  my  proffered  love, 
Nor  think  that  I  the  wanton  prove : 
Though  women  seldom  use  to  wooe, 
Yet  I  will  love,  Sir,  and  none  but  you. 

"  When  women  love,  they  will  it  hide, 
Until  their  Lover  they  have  try'd  : 
Though  I  say  nay,  as  maidens  do, 

You  will  I  love,  Sir,  and  none  but  you.  64 

"  Here  is,"  quoth  she,  "  my  heart  and  hand, 
My  constant  love  thou  shalt  command ; 
And  I  do  vow  to  be  ever  true, 

You  will  I  love,  Sir,  and  none  but  you. 

"  Whilst  golden  Titan  doth  display 
His  beams  unto  the  chearful  day, 
Whilst  Spring  the  Winter  doth  ensue, 

You  will  I  love,  Sir,  and  none  but  you.  72 

"  On  thee  my  love  is  fixed  fast, 
On  thee  my  love  is  firmly  plac'd, 
For  thee  l'le  bid  the  world  adieu, 

You  will  I  love,  Sir,  and  none  bat  you. 

The  Maiden's  Nay;  or,  '  I  love  not  You.' 


"  If  Hero  should  Leander  leave, 
Fair  Lucrece  Collatine  deceive, 
Or  Syrinx  prove  to  Pan  untrue, 

Yet  I'll  love  you,  Sir,  and  none  but  you.  80 

"  Object  no  former  coy  reply, 
Suspect  no  future  constancy  : 
Accept  my  love  as  a  tribute  due 

Onely  to  you,  Sir,  and  to  none  but  you." 

The  young  man  noting  well  her  words, 
This  courteous  answer  then  affords  : 
"  Give  me  thy  hand,  take  mine  in  lieu  : 

My  love  I  grant  here,  and  so  do  you.  88 

"  To  Church  with  speed  then  let  us  hye, 
In  marriage  bands  our  selves  to  tye : 
"Where,  interchanging  hands  and  hearts, 
Fie  love  thee  deerly  till  death  us  parts." 

Mark  well  my  Song,  you  Maidens  coy, 
That  count  true  love  a  foolish  toy  : 
Do  not  disdain  when  young  men  wooe, 

But  love  them  freely  as  they  love  you.  96 

JFtnfe.  [By]  R.H. 

Printed  for  F.  Coles,  T.  Vere,  and  J.  Wriyht.    [Pepys,  John  Wright.'] 

[In  Black-letter.  Three  woodcuts.  1st  and  2nd,  singly,  as  on  p.  140 ;  3rd, 
original  of  the  same  two  figures,  on  one  block.  Date,  circd  1680.] 
***  The  author  of  this  ballad  is  not  yet  identified  by  his  initials :  probably 
he  was  Robert  May  hurst.  We  find  R.K.'s  signature  to  a  Welsh  translation  of 
E.D.'s  "When  Philomel"  (see  vol.  i.  p.  57),  and  to  the  "Now  Robin  Hood" 
ballad  (see  vol.  ii.  p.  432). 


[The  man  belongs  to  '  Tom  and  Will,'  p.  258  ;   the  woman  to  p.  251.] 


[Roxb.  Coll.,  II.  506  ;  Douce,  II.  245  ;  Hutli,  II.  143  ;  Jersey,  II.  59.] 

%\>t  ame0t>eountvp  3Jtcj3 ; 

£>r,  llotie  tn  Due  Swotn 

A  longing  Maid  which  had  a  mind  to  marry, 
Complaining  was  that  she  so  long  should  tarry  ; 
At  length  a  brisk  young  Lad  did  chance  to  spy  her, 
And  liking  of  her  well,  resolv'd  to  try  her  ; 
And  courting  her,  and  vowing  to  be  constant, 
They  there  clapt  up  a  bargain  in  an  instant. 

To  a  pleasant  New  Tune,  called,  New  Exeter.    "With  Allowance. 

WHen  Sol  with  his  beams,  had  gilded  the  streams, 
And  nymphs,  and  young  shepherds  awakt  from  their 
I  heard  a  sad  moan,  [dreams  ; 

In  a  neighbouring  grove,  from  a  voice  all  alone. 

A  Languishing  Maid,  by  Cupid  betray'd  ; 
Was  sighing,  and  sobbing,  and  often  she  said : 

"  Love  !  cruel  to  me  ; 
When  shall  I  be  eas'd  of  my  misery  ?  8 

"  Tis  known  I  am  Fair,  and  brisk  as  the  air  ; 
Not  one  in  a  thousand  with  me  can  compare ; 

Yet  ne'r  a  young-man 
Will  ease  me  of  sadness,  to  help  me  !   that  can. 

"  My  time  I  do  spend,  yet  want  I  a  friend 
To  rally,  and  dally,  and  please  me  to  th'  end : 
Which  makes  me  to  say, 

0  Cupid  !  great  Cupid!  I  love  no  delay.  16 

"  All  night  in  my  bed,  with  cares  in  my  head, 
And  weeping,  and  wailing,  I  wish  I  were  wedd : 
And  yet  no  relief 

1  find  in  the  morning,  for  all  my  sad  grief. 

"  How  happy's  the  birds  which  mate  in  the  woods? 
Enjoying  most  freely,  their  Love  without  words; 

Whilst  I  do  complain, 
Of  Young-men's  unkindness  and  cruel  disdain."  24 

A  Young-man  hard  by,  this  Maid  did  espy ; 
Admiring  her  beauty,  he  to  her  did  hye : 

Quoth  he,  "  Pretty  Saint, 
It  grieves  my  heart  [sore]  for  to  hear  your  complaint. 

Note.  —The  tune  of  Neto  Exeter,  which  has  a  true  lilt,  is  not  yet  identified. 
The  Neiv  Bath  is  in  Playford's  Dancing  Master  of  1695,  p.  120,  and  in  earlier 
editions ;  but  not  New  Exeter,  unless  under  a  different  name.  Wat  it  a  Hymn-tune  t 

The  Wed- Country  Jig  ;  or,  Love  in  due  Season.       251 

"  What  think  you  of  me  ?  I'm  active  and  free  ; 
And  willing  to  serve  you  in  every  degree : 

And  by  this  sweet  Kiss, 
To  proffer  my  service  :  it  is  not  amiss."  32 

The  bonny  young  Maid  was  nothing  afraid; 
But  modestly  blushing,  unto  him  she  said : 

"  Since  you  are  so  free, 
If  you  will  be  constant,  we  two  may  agree." 

Quoth  he,  "  Thou  shalt  find  me  loyal,  and  kind, 
And  ready,  and  willing,  to  pleasure  thy  mind : 

Then  do  you  not  fear, 
But  I  will  be  constant,  my  joy  and  my  dear."  40 

This  made  her  rejoice,  and  with  cheerful  voice, 

Quoth  she,  "  Mine  own  Dearest,  thou  shalt  be  my  Choice  : 

Take  heart  and  take  hand, 
I  always  will  be  at  thy  will  and  command." 

Then  did  they  retire,  with  longing  desire  ; 
Expecting,  and  waiting  for  quenching  love's  fire  : 

And  now  lives  most  free, 
Although  a  Quick  Bargain  was  made,  as  you  see.  48 

[London  :  Printed  for  Philip  Brooksby.] 
[In  Black-letter.     Four  woodcuts:   1st,  the  Prince  Henry,  of  vi.  66,  left;  2nd, 
the  bathing  nymph  of  p.  249  ;  3rd  and  4th,  the  man  and  woman  standing  on 
tesselated  pavement,  under  arches,  vi.  76.     Colophon  lost,  but  supplied  from 
Huth's,  II.  143,  of  Brooksby' s  publishing.    Date,  probably,  soon  after  1672.] 

[These  cuts  belong  to  pp.  152,  181,  253,  ««^264.] 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  II.  498;  Euing,  387  and  388;   Jersey,  I.  312,  II.  20.] 

%\)t  JKfteSt^Countrp  Mooing; 

%$z  ^frrp^ronccitcti  Couple* 

In  pleasant  terms  he  lets  her  know  his  mind, 
And  fairly  wooes  her,  for  to  make  her  kind  : 
At  first  she  seemed  coy  to  his  persuasion, 
And  put  him  off,  with  many  a  sly  evasion : 
But  finding  at  the  last  his  love  was  constant, 
Her  heart  she  did  resign  from  that  same  instant. 

Tune  of,  When  Sol  will  cast  no  light ;  Or,  My  pritty  little  Rogue.    [See  p.  253.] 

[The  woodcuts  are  on  p.  251.] 

"  IV/T^  ^°y  au^  on^  Dear,  come  sit  down  by  me ; 
JjJL     For  thou  shalt  plainly  hear,  I  mean  to  try  thee ; 
If  thou  canst  love  a  Lad,  brisk,  young  and  lively, 
I'le  make  thy  heart  full  glad,  thou  shalt  live  finely. 

"  Thy  pritty  rowling  eye,  and  wa[i]ste  so  slender, 
Thy  forehead  smooth  and  high,  thy  lips  so  tender, 
Hath  so  ensnar'd  my  heart,  that  I  must  love  thee : 
Therefore  l'le  not  depart,  till  pitty  move  thee."  8 

"  Alas  !  kind  Sir,"  she  said,  "  what  hath  possest  ye, 
For  to  delude  a  Maid  ?  be  not  so  hasty  ! 
Your  flattering  words  that  past  can  no  ways  move  me ; 
For  to  repent  at  last,  or  yield  to  love  ye. 

"  We  know  that  young-men  can  cog,  lye,  and  flatter, 
And  make  vows,  now  and  then,  to  mend  the  matter ; 
With  such  slights  cunningly  they  do  deceive  us, 
Bring  us  to  beggary,  and  then  they  leave  us."  16 

2H)E  JcccoiVtJ  Ipatt,  To  the  same  Tune. 

"  Fear  not,  my  Dear,"  (quoth  he)  "  that  I  dissemble, 
Or  that  such  false  young  men  I  do  resemble : 
I  have  both  house  and  land,  good  gold  and  riches, 
And  all  at  thy  command  :  pray  mark  my  speeches  !  " 

"  Your  house  and  land,  perhaps,  you  think  may  move  me; 
But  I  fear  after-claps,  if  I  should  love  ye  : 
Therefore,  my  Maiden-head,  I  will  make  much  on't, 
For  ne'rc  a  false  young-man  shall  have  a  touch  on't."         24 

The  West-Country  Wooing.  253 

"  0  stay,  my  Love  !  "  he  said,  "  make  further  tryal, 
Be  not  so  resolute  in  your  denial; 
Fear  not,  but  you  shall  find,  I  will  content  thee, 
And  bravely  please  thy  mind,  none  shall  prevent  me." 

"  What  pleasure  can  a  Maid  find  in  your  dealing, 
When  you  her  kindness  think  not  worth  concealing  ? 
Young-men  are  apt  to  blab  what's  done  in  private  ; 
And  well  I  understand  what  'tis  you  drive  at."  32 

"  My  pretty  Rogue,"  he  said,  "  do  not  misdoubt  me  ; 
Why  should  you  live  a  maid,  and  think  I  flout  ye  ? 
In  my  Love,  I  promise  [this],  for  to  persever,  lSeeJVote. 

And  seal  it  with  a  kiss,  to  last  for  ever." 

"  If  that  you  love  as  much  as  you  profess  it ; 
And  that  your  truth  is  such  as  you  express  it ; " 
(Quoth  she)  "  take  hand  and  heart,  and  use  your  pleasure, 
For  I  will  never  part  from  such  a  treasure."  40 

"  0  how  it  joyes  my  mind  "  (quoth  he),  "  my  Jewel, 
That  thou  wilt  now  be  kind,  and  no  more  cruel : 
Venus,  that  Goddess,  she  will  smile  to  know  it, 
How  we  in  love  agree,  when  we  shall  shew  it." 

So,  from  that  happy  hour,  they  were  united, 

And  to  a  pleasant  Bower  he  her  invited, 

Where  they,  with  sport  and  play,  kindly  imbracing, 

There  past  the  time  away,  Lovers'  Joyes  tracing.  48 

[Probably  by  John  Wade.] 

London,  Printed  for  W.  Thackeray,  T  Passenyer,  and  W.  Whitwood. 

[In  Black-letter.     Two  woodcuts,  given  on  p.  251.     Date,  circa  1679-82.] 

***  The  often-mentioned  ballad  beginning  "  When  Sol  will  cast  no  light." 
which  gives  name  to  the  tune,  and  is  itself  entitled  '  The  Pensive  Maid ;  or,  The 
Virgin's  Lamentation  for  the  Loss  of  her  Lover,'  will  follow  in  the  Second  Group 
of  Naval  Ballads.  The  original  has  already  been  reprinted  (Rnxb.  Ballads,  iii. 
127),  'A  Pleasant  new  Song  between  a  Seaman  and  his  Love,'  by  Cuthbert 
Birket.  A  different  version  begins  "When  Sol  did  cast  no  light"  (Wood,  E. 
25,  fol.  153;  Douce,  II.  136,  137):  entitled,  'The  valiant  Seaman's  happy 
Return  to  his  Love  after  a  long  seven  years'  absence.'  The  alternative  tune- 
name  for  our  '  West-Country  Wooing  '  is  '  My  pretty  little  Rogue.'1  This  marks 
the  first  line  of  a  ballad  by  John  Wade,  and  it  is  here  added  on  p.  254.  Its  own 
alternative  tune-name  is  I  am  so  deep  in  love  (the  same  tune  as  Cupid'' s  Courtesy, 
of  1655,  i.e.  "  Thro'  the  cool  shady  woods")  :  for  which  see  the  previous  vol.  vi. 
pp.  252  to  254.  Quite  distinct,  in  tune  and  words,  is  "  I  am  so  sick  of  Love  :  " 
we  give  it,  for  comparison,  on  p.  300. 

In  line  35  the  stress  or  emphasis  may  have  been  laid  on  the  second  syllable  of 
promise;  as  also  in  pers<?7er  :  therefore  without  need  of  interpolating  [this']. 


[Wood's  Coll.,  E.  25,  ft.  2,  46  ;  Bepys,  III.  98  ;  Huth,  II.  85:  C.  22.  e.  2, 146.] 

a  Serious  Discourse  fcettoeen  ttoo  Letters* 

This  Song  'will  teach  young  Men  to  wooe, 
And  shew  young  Maidens  what  to  do ; 
Nay,  it  will  learn  them  to  be  cunning  too. 

To  the  Tune  of,  When  Sol  will  cast  no  light ;  or,  Beep  in  Love.     [See  p.  253.] 

[Written]  By  J[ohn]  Wade. 

Y  pretty  little  Rogue,  do  hut  come  hither ! 
With  thee  I'le  not  collogue,  if  thou'lt  consider 


The  pains  for  thee  I've  took,  Cupid  so  wounds  me,      r— modem  slanR 
'.  3ut  now  I'm  in  the  Brook,  if  thou  dost  not  love  me.  |_    ' in  a  hole.' 

"  I  will  forsake  all  my  kin,  my  father  and  mother 
I  value  not  a  pin,  or  any  other ; 
'Tis  only  thy  sweet  face  the  which  doth  move  me, 
And  I  think  thou  hast  some  grace,  and  thou  [wi]lt  love  me.  8 

"  Biches  I'le  promise  none,  nor  no  great  treasure, 
Because  I'le  do  no  wrong  to  thee,  my  pleasure ; 
But  all  that  I  e're  have,  thou  shalt  command  it, 
And  I'le  maintain  thee  brave,  [if]  thou'st  understand  it." 

"  My  word,  nor  yet  my  Oath,  shall  not  he  broken  ; 
Then  take  this  sugered  Kiss,  in  sign  of  Love's  token : 
My  heart  is  firm  and  true,  then  let  pitty  move  thee ; 
I'le  not  seek  for  a  new,  if  thou'lt  but  love  me.  16 

QEfje  -Scconu  l^art,  To  the  same  Tune. 

The  Maid. 
"  Good  Sir,  I  thank  you  fine,  for  what  is  spoken, 
But  all's  not  gold  that  shines,  and  as  for  your  token,  [Cf.  p.  214. 

I  shall  not  it  receive  though  you  do  prove  me, 
My  joy  thou'lt  n'er  bereave,  for  I  cannot  love  thee. 

"  Young  men  can  swear  and  lie,  but  who  will  believe  them? 
All  goodness  they  defie.  and  it  n'er  grieves  them, 
Only  to  tempt  a  Maid  by  their  delusion, 
Therefore  I  am  afraid  'twill  breed  confusion.  24 

"  A  Maid  had  need  beware  that  doth  mean  honest, 
Lest  she  falls  in  a  snare  when  they  do  promise : 
For  they  will  vow  and  swear  they'l  never  leave  you, 
But  when  they  know  your  mind,  then  they'l  deceive  you, 

"  Therefore  I  will  be  wise,  lest  I  be  taken 
In  a  Fool's  Paradise,  and  then  be  forsaken. 
I'le  put  no  trust  in  man,  to  one  or  other, 
Let  them  do  what  they  can  if  't  were  my  brother."  32 

John  Wade's  '  Serious  Discourse  between  Tiro  Lovers.'  255 

The  Man. 
"  My  dear,  you  do  but  jest,  I  may  boldly  speak  it, 
Of  all  I  love  tbee  best,  pritbee  so  take  it. 
There  is  no  flesh  alive  ever  shall  move  me  ; 
If  thou  wilt  be  my  Wife,  I'le  dearly  love  thee. 

"  Servants  on  tbee  shall  tend,  and  come  at  thy  pleasure, 
For  I  will  be  thy  friend,  to  bring  thee  treasure. 
What  can'st  thou  wish  for  more  ?  then  do  but  prove  me, 
And  thou  shalt  plainly  find  how  dear  I  love  thee.  40 

' '  For  means  thou  shalt  not  want,  if  I  do  gain  tbee, 
I  have  good  bouse  and  land,  for  to  maintain  thee. 
I  have  good  Sheep  i'  th'  field,  and  Beasts  that's  proving, 
All  is  at  thy  command,  if  thou'lt  be  loving. 

"  I'le  give  thee  gold,  my  dear,  I'le  give  thee  money, 
Then  thou  need'st  not  to  fear,  I'le  be  thy  honey : 
No  Lady  in  the  Land  ever  shall  move  me, 
Thou'st  have  my  heart  and  hand,  if  thou'lt  but  love  me."  48 

The  Maid. 
"  Tour  words  are  very  fair,  I  much  commend  you. 

Seeing  you  are  so  [rare],  thus  I'le  befriend  you  :  [text,  '  fair,' 

Though  at  first  I  was  coy,  'twas  but  to  prove  thee  ; 
Yet  now  I'le  be  thy  joy,  and  dearly  love  thee." 

The  Young  Man  hearing  this,  by  the  band  took  her, 

The  bargain  seal'd  with  a  kiss,  he  ne'r  forsook  her: 

But  strait  to  Church  they  went,  things  were  so  carried, 

He  gave  his  Love  content,  when  they  were  Married.  56 

Thus  all  young  Maids  may  find  young  men  are  honest, 

If  they  bear  the  like  mind,  true  to  their  promise  : 

But  if  they  falsifie,  who  can  believe  them  ? 

And  when  they  h[av]e  lost  their  loves,  then  it  doth  [griev]e  them. 

Printed  for  P.  Brooksby,  at  the  Golden  Ball,  in  [  West  Smithjield]. 

[Pepys'  exemplar  printed  for  W.  Thackeray,  Thomas  Passinger  and  Wm.  Whit- 
wood;  another,  in  Case  22,  e.  2,  146,  was  printed  for  Thomas  Hardy,  at  the 
Horse-shoe,  West  Smithjield.  In  Black-letter.  One  woodcut,  as  on  p.  228, 
and  a  head-border.     Date,  circa  1681.] 

This  '  Serious  Discourse  between  two  Lovers  '  and  other  valuable  innovations 
must  be  held  to  more  than  compensate  for  the  delay  of  such  ballads  as  '  The 
Gelding  of  the  Devil' ="  A  pretty  Jest  I  will  you  tell"  (already  reprinted  in 
Merry  Drollery  Cnmpleat,  p.  200)  ;  '  Have  at  a  Venture'  ="  A  Country  Lad  and 
Bonny  Lass"  (tune  of  Hey  boys  up  go  we) ;  '  The  High-priced  Pin-Box '  =  "  I 
have  a  gallant  Pin-Box;  "  '  The  Huntsman's  Delight '  =  "  Come  all  you  young 
Maidens;  "  '  The  Ingenious  Braggadocia '="  I  have  a  Mare,  her  colour  is  white;" 
and  '  Kentish  Dick  ;  or,  The  lusty  Coachman  of  Westminster '  =  "  In  Westminster 
Town  you  there  may  discover."     These  are  fit  for  the  Muck-Dougall. 


Com  ann  WiiW  toere  ^bcpbert)  ^>toains. 

"  Pastorals  beauties  'when  unblown,  ere  yet  the  tender  bud  did  cleave, 
To  my  more  early  love  were  known  :  their  fatal  power  I  did  perceive. 
How  often  in  the  dead  of  night,  when  all  the  world  lay  hush'd  in  sleep, 
Have  I  thought  this  my  chief  delight,  to  sigh  for  you,  for  you  to  weep. 

"  Upon  my  heart,  whose  leaves  of  white  no  letter  yet  did  ever  stain, 
Fate  (whom  none  can  controul)  did  write  '  The  fair  Pastora  here  must  rei°-n  !  ' 
Her  eyes,  those  darling  Suns,  shall  prove  thy  Love  to  be  of  noblest  race  ; 
Which  took  its  flight  so  far  above  all  humane  things,  on  her  to  gaze. 

"  How  can  you  then  a  Love  despise  ?  a  Love  that  was  iufus'd  by  you  ; 
You  gave  breath  to  its  infant  sighs,  and  all  its  griefs  that  did  ensue. 
The  pow'r  you  have  to  wound,  I  feel :  how  long  shall  I  of  that  complain  ? 
Now  shew  the  pow'r  you  have  to  heal,  and  take  away  the  torturing  pain." 

— Playford's  Choyce  Ayres,  Book  iii.  1683. 


HOSOEYEP  may  have  been  the  original  of  the  Lady  here 
disguised  as  a  Shepherdess  Pastora,  carried  away  from  her  rustic 
admirers  Tom  and  Will,  to  adorn  the  Court  of  Charles  I.  before  it 
sank  from  its  stately  dignity  under  the  pestilential  breath  of  Civil- 
War,  we  may  feel  certain  that  there  had  been  some  foundation  for 
gossip,  intelligible  at  the  time  to  those  who  moved  in  the  backstairs 
region  among  the  Dames  of  Honour.  There  is  a  reference  to  the 
Queen,  Henrietta  Maria.  "We  conjecture  the  date  was  1642,  at 
latest.  It  was  printed  during  the  interregnum,  in  1656,  in  Sportive 
Wit,  p.  112,  a  book  assigned  to  Milton's  nephew,  John  Phillips:  it 
brought  him  into  trouble  with  the  Council  (some  parts  being  what 
are  termed  '  curious,'  or  free),  like  his  own  Satyr  upon  Hypocrites. 

The  song  continued  popular  among  our  Cavaliers,  for  it  is  reprinted  in  Merry 
Drollery  Compleat,  ii.  149,  1670;  Academy  of  Complements,  p.  180,  1670; 
Windsor  Drollery,  p.  61,  1672 ;  Pills  to  Purge  Melancholy,  p.  130,  1699,  1714  ; 
iii.  112,  1719  ;  and  Roberts's  Old  Ballads,  ii.  179,  172.5.  The  tune  used  for  it 
(Mustek's  Handmaid,  part  ii.  1689),  composed  by  Henry  Purcell,  -was  known 
after  the  sham  Popish-Plot  as  The  De'il  assist  the  plotting  Whigs  (from  the 
Loyal  Song  thus  beginning,  and  of  date  1684:  p.  210  in  the  Collection  of  180 
Loyal  Songs,  1685,  1694).  In  Merry  Drollery  the  title  is  '  Of  two  Amorous 
Swains.'  Lines  17-20,  29-32,  and  49-52,  of  the  broadsides,  are  not  in  the 
Drolhries,  that  is,  the  half-stanzas  beginning  respectively  "The  scorching 
flames  "  ; — "  Thus  did  she  handle  Tom  and  Will"  ;  and  "  She  dealt  her  favour 
equally":  but  these  are  not  necessarily  interpolations  or  unauthorised,  even  if 
deficient  from  the  privately-circulated  manuscripts.  The  broadside  reads  lamely 
"Yet  she  was  so  fair  a  she,  and  of  so  fair  behaviour"  (instead  of  which  we 
adopt  the  Pills  version,  "  So  cunning  and  so  fair  was  she") ;  misprints  ' grav'd' 
for  '  grae'd'  in  opening  stanza;  '  less '  for  'loose'  in  half-line  43;  makes 
nonsense  of  half-line  18,  by  misreading  '  then  they  could  not  longer  smother  '  (in 
the  doubtful  stanza),  and  substitutes  weakly  '  Tom  was  handsome'  for  the  earlier 
suggestive  contrast  to  Will's  sadness,  "  Tom  was  toy-some,"  meaning  gamesome. 

What  a  charming  Pastoral  it  is !  with  Courtly  wit  and  social 
satire.  Not  the  same  Pastora,  but  a  namesake,  inspired  Henry 
Purcell  to  celebrate  her  in  '  Predestined  Love  :  '  our  motto. 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  III.  104;  Pepys,  III.  321;  Douce,  II.  216.] 

Com  ant}  Will; 

£)r,  %fyt  £>gcpBcrti0'  §>geep;fol& 

Both  doated  on  a  beautiful  Lass  ;  both  were  alike  respected ; 

Both  thought  themselves  i'  th'  better  case  ;  both  were  at  last  neglected. 

To  a  pleasant  new  Country  Tune.     [See  Note,  p  258.] 

nPOm  and  Will  were  Shepherd-Swains,  who  lov'd  &  liv'd  together; 
When  foir-fWomgrac'd  the  Plains,  alack!  why  come  she  thither? 
For  though  they  fed  two  several  flocks,  they  had  but  one  desire : 
Pastora's  eyes  and  amber  locks  set  both  their  hearts  on  fire. 

Tom  came  of  honest  gentle  race,  by  Father  and  by  Mother, 
Will  was  noble,  but,  alas  !  he  was  a  younger  Brother. 
Tom  was  to[y]some  ;   Will  was  sad,  no  Hunts-man,  nor  no  Fowler  ; 
Tom  was  held  the  proper  Lad,  but  Will  the  better  Bowler. 

The  scorching  flames  their  hearts  did  bear,  than  they  could  longer 

smother  ; 
Although  they  knew  they  Rivals  were,  they  still  lov'd  one  another. 
Tom  would  drink  her  health,  and  swear,  "This  Nation  will  not  want 

her !  " 
Will  could  take  her  by  the  ear,  and  with  his  voice  inchant  her. 

Tom  keeps  always  in  her  sight,  and  ne'r  forgets  his  duty ; 

Will  was  witty,  and  could  write  s[mooth]  Sonnets  on  her  Beauty. 

VOL.    VII.  S 

258  Tom  and  Will:  The  Shepherd* 8  Sheep-fold. 

2Tf)E  StccmtJ  ^art,  to  the  same  tune. 

Thus  did  she  handle  Tom  and  Will,  who  both  did  dote  upon  her  ; 
For  graciously  she  us'd  them  still,  and  still  preserv'd  her  honour. 
[So  cunning  and  so  fair  was]  she,  and  of  so  sweet  behaviour, 
That  Tom  thought  he,  and  Will  thought  he,  was  chiefly  in  her  favour. 

Pastora  was  a  loving  Lass,  and  of  a  comely  feature ; 

Divinely  good  and  fair  she  was,  and  kind  to  every  creature. 

Of  favour  she  was  provident,  and  yet  not  over-sparing ; 

She  gave  no  l[oose]  encouragement,  yet  kept  them  from  despairing. 

"Which  of  these  two  she  loved  best,  or  whether  she  lov'd  either  ? — 
'Tis  thought  they'l  find  it  to  their  cost  that  she  indeed  lov'd  neither. 
She  dealt  her  favour  equally,  they  both  were  well  contented ; 
She  kept  them  both  from  jealousie,  not  easily  prevented. 

Tale-telling  Fame  hath  made  report,  of  fair  Pastorals  beauty ; 
Pastora's  sent  for  to  the  Court,  there  to  perform  her  duty. 
Unto  the  Court  Pastora's  gone,  it  had  been  no  Court  without  her, 
Our  Queen  'mongst  all  her  train  had  none  [was]  half  so  fair  about  her. 

Tom  hung  his  dog,  and  threw  away  his  sheep-crook  and  his  wallet ; 
Will  burst  his  Pipes,  and  curst  the  day  that  e're  he  made  a  [ballet]. 
Their  nine-pins  and  their  bowls  they  break,  their  joys  are  turn'd  to 

fears ; 
'Tis  time  for  me  an  end  to  make  :  let  them  go  shake  their  ears ! 

Printed  for  F.  Coles,  in  Wine-street,  Saffron-hill,  near  Hatton- Garden. 

[In  Black-letter,  with  four  cuts  :  1st,  the  '  Judgment  of  Paris,''  vi.  98,  left ;  2nd, 
the  man  of  our  p.  249,  left ;  3rd,  the  lady,  p.  45,  left ;  4th,  the  youth,  p.  203. 
Date,  circa  1642:  earliest  dated,  1650.     Woodcuts  on  pp.  257,  307,  extra.] 

*#*  As  to  the  ' pleasant  new  Country  Tune '  of  this  ballad,  the  later  music  was 
by  Henry  Purcell.  A  Sequel  to  "  Tom  and  Will "  has  been  already  reprinted  in 
our  work  (vol.  iv.  159,  viz.  a  '  farther  Narrative  of  the  Popish  Plot:'  purchased 
by  Nat.  Luttrell,  dated  March  11,  16fg),  beginning,  "  Hark  thee,  Will,  I'll  tell 
thee  some  news."     Title  is  "  Tom  and  Will ;  or,  News  from  the  Country,"  etc. 

C&c  &Oe$t>Countrp  Dialogue. 

"  And  thereof  came  it  that  the  man  was  mad : 
The  venom  clamours  of  a  jealous  woman 
Poisons  more  deadly  than  a  mad  dog's  tooth." 

— The  Comedy  of  Errors,  Act  v.  sc.  1. 


HE  true  country  life  of  England  in  the  years  preceding  the 
boasted  lie  volution  reveals  itself  in  the  ballads  of  the  West-country, 
gathered  in  this  volume.  Generally  these  have  a  hearty  honest 
vigour  and  contentedness ;  some  occasional  coarseness  and  broad 
humour  notwithstanding.     The  maidens  are  coy  at  first,  but  they 

The  West-Country  Dialogue.  259 

know  how  to  baffle  a  seducer  and  put  him  to  shame.  Sometimes 
they  have  a  favoured  lover  of  their  own,  to  whom  they  appeal  for 
protection,  and  his  stout  cudgel  is  not  seldom  the  medicine  which 
subdues  the  evil-doer's  vagrant  fancies.  At  other  times  the  maiden's 
own  virtues  prevail  so  far  as  to  win  a  victory  for  her,  single- 
handedly ;  at  last  (like  Richardson's  'Pamela'  of  later  date,  but 
unlike  '  Clarissa  Harlowe,')  she  accepts  without  demur  the  proffer 
of  marriage  from  the  very  man  who  had  striven  basely  to  degrade 
her  by  his  passion.  There  are  sufficient  signs  of  cunning,  if  not 
also  of  wantonness,  among  the  less  worthy  lasses  and  lads,  to  suit 
our  modern  realistic  novelists,  and  to  banish  false  glamour,  befitting 
any  Utopian  world.  Not  here,  or  at  any  rate  not  often,  do  we  meet 
impossible  Shepherdesses  or  Arcadian  swains,  as  in  the  earlier  lays 
of  the  first  Charles's,  or  as  long  afterwards  in  Boucher's  adornments 
of  the  alcoves  wherein  the  doomed  French  noblesse  of  the  ancien 
regime  trifled  amorously.  These  are  no  longer  the  masquerade 
rustics  of  our  p.  257,  the  '  Tom  and  Will'  who  loved  Pastora ;  the 
Caddie  and  Thenot  of  Spenser's  Shepheard's  Calendar,  1579.  ~No 
lingering  echoes  come  to  us  from  Theocritus  or  Yirgil,  and  it  would 
be  '  folly  desperate  folly,''  were  we  to  lament  their  absence.  Our 
present  group  of  ballads  bears  to  these  poetic  ideals  the  same 
relationship  that  George  Morland's  pictures  bore  to  Lancret's  and 
Watteau's.  We  see  the  genuine  labourers,  the  ploughmen,  millers 
and  shepherds,  with  their  faults  and  their  amusements ;  their 
saucy  milkmaids  and  their  skittish  farmers'  daughters :  at  any 
holiday-time  ready  for  a  fairing,  but  on  work-a-days  they  keep 
debating  the  pro  and  con  of  matrimony  so  long  as  it  suits  their 
purpose.  It  is  no  new  thing  to  hear  folks  declare  that  of  necessity 
marriage  is  a  failure.  It  happened  to  be  so,  now  and  then,  even  in 
the  days  of  the  Merry  Monarch ;  but  not  often :  for  a  good  wife 
could  always  win  back  an  erring  husband,  or  keep  him  from 
straying,  if  she  had  both  wit  and  willingness  to  make  the  effort. 

We  fear  the  wedded  life  of  Aniseed  Robin  proved  to  be  troubled. 
The  petulance  and  violence  of  his  Joany  were  of  evil  omen.  Jack, 
when  consulted,  knew  himself  safe  from  responsibility,  and  surely 
if  the  marriage  came  off  at  all,  there  were  heavy  odds  against  their 
winning  the  flitch  of  bacon  at  Duumow. 

*#*  As  to  the  tune  and  burden  named,  0  folly,  desperate  folly,  we  have  a  small 
library  of  early  ballads  connected  therewith.  It  was  early  known  as  Bragandary 
down,  Southampton,  and  The  Beating  of  the  brum.  Two  versions  of  Will. 
Bagnall's  Ballad'  (properly  Bagwell)  are  preserved  by  Dr.  James  Smith  and  Sir 
John  Mennis  or  Menzies  in  The  Muses'  Recreation,  and  Wit  Restored  of  1656  and 
1658  respectively,  beginning,  "A  ballet,  a  ballet,  let  every  poet,"  with  burden, 
0  women,  monstrous  women,  what  do  you  meane  to  doe  ?  See  our  Bagford  Ballads, 
pp.  429,  430,  434,  528,  923,  and  Roxb.  Bds.,  v.  252,  for  mention  of  several 
ballads  (one  reprinted  in  Roxb.  Bds.,  iii.  588,  "  It  is  reported  in  the  East "),  to 
the  tune  of  0  folly,  desperate  folly  .' 



[Roxourghe  Collection,  II.  500,  514;  Jersey,  I.  211  ;  Hutli,  II.  140.] 

Ci)e  2Jftest*Coimtrp  analogue : 

2L  pleasant  SDtttu  facttorcn  Anniseed-Robin  tge  {gtfller, 
ano  Dt0  Brother  Jack  tge  ploughman,  concerning 
Joan,  poor  Robin's  untuno  ILouer* 

To  the  Tune  of,  0  folly,  desperate  Folly,  etc.     Licensed  according  to  Order. 

'Ell  met,  my  loving  Brother  Jack, 
Mind  what  I  shall  say  to  thee ; 
My  Mother  tells  me  that  I  lack 
A  woman  to  wait  on  me  : 
She  tells  me  I'm  big  enough  now  for  a  Wife, 
And  therefore  must  alter  my  Batchelor's  life  ; 
But  I  am  afraid  of  care,  trouble,  and  strife  : 

0  Charges,  Family  charges,  makes  me  afraid  to  wed  !         8 

"lis  like  you  are  loath  to  take  a  Bride, 
Because  that  the  times  are  hard  ; 
Pray  cast  such  careful  thoughts  aside, 
And  never  such  things  regard  : 
For  if  you  can  live  now  when  ev'ry  thing's  dear, 
Why  then,  Brother  Robin,  I'll  make  it  appear, 
In  times  of  full  plenty  much  moneys  you'l  clear  : 

0  marry,  prithee  now  marry,  Joan  is  a  pritty  Girl.         1 6 
I  am  not  sure  that  honest  Joan 
Will  marry  with  me,  I  swear  ; 
For  she  to  such  a  height  is  grown, 
That  if  I  by  chance  come  there, 
And  proffer  to  kiss  her,  she'll  turn  her  about, 
And  then  with  her  fists  she'll  batter  my  snout, 
Till  bloud  from  the  same  came  trickling  out : 

0  marry,  if  I  should  marry,  how  will  she  serve  me  then? 

'Tis  like  you  did  not  compliment, 
And  give  her  a  kind  Embrace  ; 
But  like  some  clownish  Booby  went, 
With  hat  hanging  o'er  your  face  ; 
And  it  may  be,  your  shoes  and  your  stockings  unty'd, 
You  look'd  like  a  Lover  that  wanted  a  Bride  ; 
For  some  such  like  reason  she  liquor'd  your  hide, 

0  Robin,  Anniseed  Robin,  is  it  the  truth  or  no?  32 

The  West- Country  Dialogue.  261 

Believe  me  as  I  am  a  man, 
True  Breeding  I  there  exprest ; 
And,  as  you  know  full  well  I  can, 
I  went  in  apparel  drest. 

My  Grandfather's  hat,  and  my  calves' -leather-cloaths, 
Then  into  her  presence  I  merrily  goes, 
And  made  her  a  Congee  right  down  to  my  toes ; 

Yet  Joaney,  angry  Joaney,  kickt  me  about  the  room  !        40 

You  shou'd  have  told  her  what  you  had, 
To  bring  a  young  "Woman  to  ; 
This  would  have  made  her  heart  full  glad, 
Without  any  more  ado. 

With  kisses  thou  should' st  have  said,  "  If  thou'lt  be  mine, 
Why  then  all  my  capons,  my  turkies,  and  swine, 
And  every  thing  else  that  I  have,  should  be  thine :  " 

Then  Robin,  Anniseed- Robin,  you  would  have  gairfd  her  love. 

I  was  not  wanting  to  declare, 
My  Riches  to  her  at  large, 
And  how  I  was  my  Father's  Heir; 
Sure  I  could  maintain  a  charge  ! 
And  told  her,  that  I  had  a  cow,  and  a  calf, 
And  something  likewise  that  would  make  her  to  laugh, 
As  large,  and  as  long  as  a  Constable's  staff: 

Yet  Joaney,  passionate  Joaney,  kickt  me  about  the  floor  !  56 

Go,  try  your  Fortune  once  again, 
And  never  be  daunted  so  ; 
Her  love  you  may  at  length  obtain, 
For  Lasses  are  coy,  you  know  : 
But  after  a  while  they  surrender  and  yield, 
For  Love  is  a  thing  cannot  be  conceal'd, 
And  you  may  be  lord  of  the  conquering  field. 

Then  Robin,  tickle  her  Robin,  she  will  at  last  be  thine  !    64 

To  take  your  Council  I'll  not  fail, 
But  to  her  I'll  go  once  more  ; 
I'll  give  her  custards,  cakes  and  ale, 
Which  I  did  not  do  before  ; 
I'll  spend  a  whole  Shilling,  and  when  it  is  done, 
If  she  will  not  love  me,  as  sure  as  a  gun, 
I'll  call  her  young  whore,  and  away  I  will  run  : 

So  leave  her,  utterly  leave  her,  never  come  there  again  !     11 
Printed  by  P.  Brooksby,  in  Pye-corner. 
[Black-letter.    Two  cuts  :  1st  on  p.  282  ;  2nd,  lady  of  p.  133.    Date,  circa  1672.] 


[Roxburghe  Collection,  III.  136.     Apparently  Unique.] 

Ci)e  2DotDn*iRtgl)t  JKHooing 

£)f  Cotltttcp  William  aitti  §10  pvtttp  Peggy. 

William  wooes  Peggy,  but  Peggy's  a  girl 

That  will  not  be  wooed  by  Knight  or  by  Earl. 

But  William  he  tells  her  what  means  he  [may]  have, 

And  that  will  maintain  her  both  gallant  and  brave  ; 
At  last  she  consents  for  to  be  his  own, 
And  that  to  all  lovers  the  same  shall  be  known. 

The  Tune  is,  A  Fig  for  France  [and  Holland  too.     See  pp.  251,  264.] 

"  f\Ome,  prethy  Peggy,  let's  imbrace  ! 
\J     Thou  art  a  lusty  bouncing  Lass, 
Thou  art  thy  Mother's  onely  joy, 
And  I' me  my  Father's  prittyest  Boy. 
Let's  make  a  match  together,  I  trow, 
Since  one  another  we  do  know  ; 
My  Father  '1  give  me  a  Portion  round, 
I'me  sure  'twill  be  worth  ten  good  pound.  8 

"  Sweet  Peg,  thou'st  hear  what  means  I  have, 
And  more  to  it  I  mean  to  save ; 
I  have  ten  Sheep,  also  their  lambs. 
The  which  are  sucking  of  their  dams  : 
I've  a  good  bed  to  laye  's  both  in, 
And  a  wheel,  my  dear,  for  thee  to  spin  : 
I've  brought  old  Struck,  my  mother's  Cow,       lNote>  P-  2G4- 
For  to  milk  her  thou  dost  know  how.  16 

"  One  thing,  my  Peggy,  I  have  forgot, 
I  have  indeed  a  good  porridge  pot, 
Dishes  I  have  some  two  or  three, 
And  spoons  will  serve  both  thee  and  me : 
What  I  want  else  I  will  provide, 
So  thou'lt  consent  to  be  my  Bride. 
I  ne're  can  sleep,  not  half  the  night, 
To  think  of  Peggy,  my  heart's  delight."  24 

"  In  faith,  Willy,  thou  dost  not  jest, 
For  Lovers  I  know  can  take  no  rest  ; 
But,   William,  I  fear  thou'lt  prove  a  Sot, 
The  worser  then  sure  will  be  my  lot. 
Thou  hast  such  whimsies  in  thy  pate  : 
I  know  sometimes  you  do  wooe  Kate : 
Then  you  leave  her  and  come  to  me, 
Fye,   Will  /  such  doings  should  not  be.  'S'2 

The  Downvight  Wooing  of  William  and  Peggy.        263 

"  Besides  your  means  and  your  attire 
Deserves  a  wife  a  great  deal  higher ; 
You'l  hit  me  o'  th'  teeth  when  'tis  done, 
That  you  brought  all  and  I  brought  none. 
Therefore  I  think  that  it  is  best, 
To  leave  your  suit  and  let  it  rest ; 
For  in  faith  I  cannot  fancy  thee, 
What  ever  doth  become  of  me  I "  40 

"  Oh,  Peggy,  why  dost  thou  say  so  ? 
Thou'lt  surely  make  thy  friend  thy  foe, 
Your  mocks  and  jeers  I  can't  abide, 
I  am  plain-dealing,  time  and  tide. 
Besides,  you  do  tell  me  of  Kate, 
I'de  rather  thou  would  break  my  pate ; 
For  this  same  thing  I  do  protest, 
Thou  art  the  Girl  that  I  love  best.  48 

"  Therefore,  sweet  Peggy,  be  content, 
Thou'st  have  no  cause  for  to  repent ; 
I'le  do  what's  fitting  to  be  done, 
I'le  prove  to  thee  a  loving  Man  : 
No  beauty  shall  my  heart  insnare 
From  her  whom  I  do  love  so  dear, 
All  this,  sweet  Peggy,  thou'st  find  true, 
«  Change  not  thy  old  love  for  a  new  ! ' "  W-  p-  08-l     56 

"  But  one  thing,  Will,  I  have  to  say, 
And  that  tell  me  without  delay  : 
Since  you're  disposed  to  be  wed, 
I  doubt  i'  th'  night  you'l  foul  your  bed  ; 
Such  a  thing  I  much  do  fear, 
For  I  a  hint  of  it  did  hear ; 
Therefore,  Will,  come  tell  me  true, 
Or  I  shall  bid  you  straight  adieu."  64 

"  Surely,  Peggy,  thou'rt  in  thy  fits, 
Or  else  thou  art  beside  thy  wits  ; 
Dost  think  I  am  a  man  or  beast, 
That  can't  lye  cleanly  in  my  neast  ? 
What  fool  has  tickled  thee  in  thy  ear  ? 
The  same  I  pray  thee  let  me  hear  ; 
No,  Peg,  that  thing  shall  never  be, 
For  I  can  lye  as  clean  as  thee."  72 

264        The  Downright  Wooing  of  William  and  Peggy. 

"  Will,  why  are  you  in  such  a  freat, 
Or  to  be  a  passion  great  ? 
I  dream'd  the  same,  I  tell  to  you  ; 
Sometimes  I  find  that  dreams  are  true. 
Then  blame  me  not  for  saying  so, 
Tho'  love  will  creep  where  it  cannot  go  : 
Be  sure  I'le  look  before  I  leap, 
Least  sorrows  on  me  they  should  heap."  80 

"  Sorrow,  I  hope,  will  not  come  near 
My  Love,  my  joy,  my  Duck,  my  Dear : 
I'le  swear  thou  art  my  heart's  delight, 
I  fancy  thee  both  day  and  night ; 
Father  and  mother  ne're  shall  move 
My  heart  from  Peggy,  whom  I  love. 
Therefore,  sweet  Peggy,  make  no  delay, 
But  let's  appoint  our  wedding  day."  88 

"  Now,  Will,  thou  puts  me  to  a  stand, 
Yet  take  my  heart,  also  my  hand ; 
And  for  to  shun  all  further  strife, 
I'le  be  thy  true  and  loving  wife." 

"  Now,  Peg,  thou'st  pleased  me  so  well, 
That  to  thy  comfort  I  will  tell, 
All  things  fitting  we  will  provide : 
Next  Thursday  thou  shalt  be  my  Bride.  96 

jFfnis.     With  Allowance. 

Printed  for  W.  Thackeray,  living  near  the  Crown- Tavern  in  Puck-Lane. 

[In  Black-letter.     Four  woodcuts  :   1st  and  2nd  are  on  p.  251 ;  3rd  is  in  vol.  iii., 
on  p.  613,  a  man  ;  4th,  the  woman  on  p.  296  right.     Date,  circa  1665.] 

Note  to  line  15.  '  Struck  '  =  Struck,  =  Sullen,  or,  'Stricken  in  years.'  A  Cow 
is  said  to  be  Strok  when  her  udder  is  quite  emptied  of  milk. 

***  The  original  ballad  which  gave  name,  probably  by  its  burden,  to  the  tune 
so  often  cited  after  1665  and  1673,  '■A  Fig  for  France  and  Holland  too,'1  is  not 
recovered.     See  vol.  iv.  pp.  95,  228  and  229.     It  belonged  to  the  Dutch  War. 

Another  'Down-right  Wooing,'  this  time  of  Honest  John  and  Betty,  beginuing, 
"Well  met,  my  pritty,  Betty,"  is  extant  (Douce  Coll.,  I.  63;  Huth,  I.  81  ; 
C.  22.  e.  2,  fol.  113),  sung  to  the  tune  of  Cold  and  Raw  (seep.  233).  Several 
other  '  Wooings '  have  been  reprinted  here,  one  in  vol.  iii.  p.  408  ;  another  in 
vi.  250  ;  two  in  present  vol.,  p.  ix*  of  Preface  and  a  '  West-Country  '  on  p.  252. 
Others  follow,  on  pp.  306,  308,  respectively,  viz.  '  A  Scotch  Wooing,'  beginning, 
"Dear  Jockey'1  s  gone  to  the  wood;"  and  'The  Merry  Wooing  of  Robin  and 
Joan,''  which  commences,  "  O  Mother  !  Ch'  ave  been  a  Batchelor." 



Cbe  3l3eto  Courtier. 

Y  what  accident  the  writer  of  the  Drollery  song  entitled  '  The 
New  Courtier '  made  choice  of  Henry  Lawes'  tune,  '  Cloris,  since 
thou  art  fled  aivay,'  is  undiscovered.    Here  is  the  original  song : — 

%  Shepherd  fallen  fit  £00*.    &  pastoral 

(Before  1656.     Music  composed  by  Henry  Lawes.) 

OLOB.IS,  now  thou  art  fled  away,  Amintas'  sheep  are  gone  astray, 
And  all  the  joyes  he  took  to  see,  his  Lambkins  follow  after  thee. 
They'' re  gone,  they're  gone,  and  he  alway  sings  nothing  now  but  '  Welladay  !  ' 

His  Oaten  Pipe,  that  in  thy  praise  was  wont  to  play  such  roundelayes, 
Is  thrown  away,  and  not  a  Swaine  dares  pipe  or  sing  within  this  Plaine. 
'  Tis  death  for  any  now  to  say  one  word  to  him  but  '  Welladay  !  ' 

The  May-pole,  where  thy  little  feet  so  roundly  did  in  measure  meet, 

Is  broken  down,  and  no  content  came  near  Amintas  since  you  went. 

All  that  e'er  I  heard  him  say,  was,  "  Cloris,  Cloris,  Welladay  /" 

Upon  those  banks  you  us'd  to  tread,  he  ever  since  hath  laid  his  head, 
And  whisper' d  there  such  pining  woe  tbat  not  one  blade  of  grasse  will  grow. 
Oh  Cloris,  Cloris,  come  away,  and  hear  Amintas'  Welladay." 

The  embroyder'd  scrip  he  us'd  to  weare,  neglected  hangs,  so  does  his  haire. 
His  Crook  is  broke,  Dog  howling  lyes,  while  he  laments  with  woful  cryes  : 
"  Oh  Cloris,  Cloris,  I  decay,  and  forced  to  cry  Welladay  /" 

His  gray  coat  and  his  slops  of  green,  when  worn  by  him,  were  comely  seen  ; 
His  tar-box  [now]  is  thrown  away,  there's  no  delight  near  him  must  stay, 
But  cries,  "  Oh,  Cloris,  come  away  !  "  Amintas'  dying  Welladay. 

The  authorship  of  this  song  has  heen  attributed  without  proof 
to  Sir  Kobert  Aytoun ;  but  is  given  to  Dr.  Henry  Hughes,  in 
connection  with  the  music  by  Henry  Lawes,  in  Lawes1  Ayres, 
Book  iii.  p.  10,  1669.  We  use  the  earlier  version  of  1656,  from 
John  Phillips's  Sportive  Wit;  or,  The  Muses'  Merriment,  p.  15 
(wherefrom  the  sixth  stanza  is  omitted) ;  on  the  following  p.  16  is 
The  Answer,  beginning  "  Cloris,  since  thou  art  gone  astray,  Amyntas 
shepherd's  fled  away."  Five  stanzas,  reprinted  by  the  present 
Editor,  1876,  in  his  Appendix  to  Choice  Drollery  of  1656,  p.  293. 
Original  '  Cloris  and  Amyntas '  is  also  in  The  Loyal  Garland. 

1  The  New  Courtier '  was  evidently  written  in  the  Restoration 
days,  when  a  throng  of  time-servers  pretended  to  be  Cavaliers 
and  Loyalists,  after  having  been  long  in  alliance  with  the  sectaries, 
sharing  profits  with  them  by  despoiling  estates  during  the  usurpa- 
tion.    '  The  Utopian  Court '  was  a  cant  name  for  Whitehall. 

[Three  woodcuts  :  1st,  the  man  of  p.  285  ;  2nd,  a  small  figure  of  a  man  holding 
a  bag  of  money;  3rd,  the  couple  (p.  316)  from  iii.  419  right.  The  ballad  is 
given  in  the  1682  edition  of  Wit  and  Drollery,  p.  174,  printed  for  Obadiah 
Blagrove,  at  the  Bear,  in  St.  Paul' s- Churchyard.  See  picture  of  Cloris,  p.  307. 
The  tune  took  the  name  of  Have  at  all :  see  vol.  iv.  118,  120.] 


[Roxburghe  Coll.,  II.  378  ;  Pepys,  II.  212,  222  ;  Euin<?,  246  ;  Douce,  II.  162  ; 
Huth,  II.  37  ;  Jersey,  I.  295  ;  Rawlinson,  206  ;  Wood,  E.  25,  fol.  89.] 

Cfte  515eto  Courtier. 

The  Tune  is,  Chris,  since  thou  art  fled  away,  etc.  [See  p.  265.] 

Upon  the  Change  where  Merchants  meet, 
'Twixt  Cornhill  and  Thredneedle-street; 
Where  wits  of  every  size  are  hurl'd, 
To  treat  of  all  things  in  the  world  : 

I  saw  a  folded  Paper  fall, 

And  upon  it,  these  words  were  writ,     '  Have  at  all.'' 

Thought  I,  if  '  Have  at  All '  it  be, 
For  aught  I  know,  'tis  have  at  Me  ! 
And  (if  the  consequence  be  true) 
It  may  as  well  be  '  Have  at  You  !  ' 

Then  listen  pray  to  what  I  shall 

In  brief  declare,  what's  written  there  :     Have  at  all. 


I  Am  a  Courtier,  who  in  sport 
Do  come  from  the  Utopian  Court,  [See  p.  265. 

To  whisper  softly  in  your  ear 
How  high  we  are,  and  what  we  were : 
To  tell  you  all  would  be  too  much, 
But  here  and  there  a  little  touch  ; 

Have  at  all  !  7 

I  was,  not  many  years  agoe, 
In  tater'd  trim  from  top  to  toe : 
But  now  my  ruin'd  Robes  are  burn'd, 
My  rags  are  all  to  Ribbons  turn'd  : 
My  patches  into  pieces  fall, 
I  cogg  a  dye,  swagger  and  lye, 

Have  at  all.  1 4 

Upon  my  Pantelonian  pate  [Pantaloon-oia  Zany. 

I  wear  a  Milliner's  estate  : 
But  when  he  duns  me  at  the  Court, 
I  shew  him  a  Protection  for  't : 
Whilst  he  doth  to  protesting  fall, 
And  then  I  cry,  'Dam  me,  Sir,  you  lye, 

Have  at  alV  21 

Since  Venus  shaved  off  my  hair, 

A  powdrcd  Perewig  I  wear, 

Which  brings  me  in  the  Golden  Girls, 

Game-royal  for  Dukes,  Lords  and  Earls  ; 

When  love  doth  for  a  cooler  call, 

My  fancy  drives,  at  maids  and  wives, 

Have  at  all.  28 

The  New  Courtier :  Have  at  All.  207 

2Tfte  .Secortti  Part,  to  the  same  Tune. 

My  lodgings  never  are  at  quiet, 
Another  duns  me,  for  my  Diet, 
I  had  of  him  in  'Fifty-three, 
Which  I  forgot ;  so  did  not  he  : 

I  call  him  '  saucy  fellow,  sirrah  ! ' 

And  draw  my  sword  to  run  him  thorough  : 

Have  at  all !  35 

Yet  once  a  friend  that  sav'd  my  life, 
"Who  had  a  witty  wanton  "Wife, 
I  did  (in  courtesie)  requite ; 
Made  him  a  Cuckold,  and  a  Knight, 

Which  makes  him  mount  like  Tennis-ball, 

Whilst  she  and  I,  together  cry : 

«  Have  at  all  /'  42 

But  yet  these  Citts  are  subtile  Slaves, 

Most  of  them  Wits,  and  knowing  Knaves  ; 

We  get  their  children,  and  they  do 

From  us  get  Lands,  and  Lordships  too; 
And  'tis  most  fit  in  those  affairs 
The  Lands  should  go  to  the  right  Heirs. 

Have  at  all.  49 

A  Souldier  I  directly  hate  ; 
A  Cavalier  once  broke  my  pate, 
With  Cane  in  hand  he  overcome  me, 
And  took  away  my  Mistress  from  me  : 

For  I  confess  I  love  a  Wench, 

Be  she  English,  Irish,  Butch,  or  French. 

Have  at  all !  56 

A  Souldier's  life  is  not  like  mine, 
I  will  be  plump  when  he  shall  pine  ! 
My  Projects  carry  stronger  force 
Than  all  his  armed  Foot  and  Horse  : 

What  though  his  Mortar-peeces  roar, 

My  Chimney-peeces  shall  do  more, 

Have  at  all  !  63 

Thus  I  have  given  you,  in  short, 
A  courtier  of  Utopian  Court. 
I  write  not  of  Beligion, 
For  (to  tell  truly)  we  have  none. 
If  any  me  to  question  call, 
With  pen  or  sword,  '  Hah  NaVs  the  word, 

Have  at  all  !  '  70 

Printed  for  F.  Coles,  T.  Vere,  J.  Wright,  J.  Clarke,  W.  Thackeray,  T.  Passingcr. 
[Black-letter.  Sec  Note  of  Cuts  on  p.  265  :  one  is  on  p.  285.   Date,  1660-62.] 


[Roxburge  Collection,  III.  47C.     See  Notes,  p.  269,  and  end.] 

<&hz  ^omb0  tn  »0tmtti0tfr  0bbcp.  Z#  gung  bp 
Brotj&rc  popplttodl  in  tfy  manner  of  Chanting  in  a 

Tune,  in  imitation  of  the  Old  Soldiers.     [See  p.  272.] 



\You  must  suppose  it  to  be  Easter  Holy  -  Day  s :  At  what  time  Sisly  and  Doll, 
Kate  and  Peggy,  Moll  and  Nan,  are  marching  to  "Westminster,  xcith  a  Leash 
of 'Prentices  before  'em  ;  who  go  rowing  themselves  along  ivith  their  right  arms 
to  make  more  haste,  and  now  and  then  with  a  greasie  Muchender  wipe  away  the 
dripping  that  bastes  their  foreheads.  At  the  door  they  meet  a  crowd  q/- Wapping 
Seamen,  Southwark  Broom-men,  the  Inhabitants  of  the  Bank-side,  with  a 
Butcher  or  two  prick 'd  in  among  them.  There  awhile  they  stand  gaping  for 
the  Master  of  the  Show,  staring  upon  the  suburbs  of  their  dearest  delight,  just 
as  they  stand  gaping  upon  the  painted  Cloath  before  they  go  into  the  Poppet- 
play.  By  and  by  they  hear  the  Bunch  of  Keys,  which  rejoyces  their  hearts 
like  the  sound  of  the  Pancake-bell.  For  now  the  Man  of  Comfort  peeps  over 
the  Spikes,  and  beholding  such  a  learned  auditory,  opens  the  Gates  of  Paradise, 
and  by  that  time  they  are  half  got  into  the  first  Ohappel  {for  time  is  very 
pretious),  he  lifts  up  his  Voice  among  the  Tombs,  and  begins  his  lurrey  in 
manner  and  form  following  : — ] 

HERE  lies  William  of  Valence,  a  rigbt  good  Earl  of  Pembroke,       [ob. 
And  this  is  his  monument  which  you  see,  I'll  swear  upon  a  Book  : 
He  was  High  Marshall  of  England,  when  Henry  the  Third  did  reign  ; 
About  five  hundred  years  a-go,  but  never  will  be  so  again.1 
Here  the  Lord  [Edward]  Talbot  lies,  the  Town  of  Shrewsbury's  Earl ; 
Together  with  his  Countess  fair  (that  was  a  most  delicate  girl). 
The  next  to  him  there  lieth  one,  Sir  Richard  Peckshall  hight, 
Of  whom  we  [always  first]  do  say  he  was  a  Hampshire  Knight. 
[But  now  to  tell  ye  more  of  him,  there  lies  under  this  stone, 
His  two  Wives,  and  his  Daughters  four  ;  of  whom  I  knew  not  one.  ] 


1  Original  text,  "  But  this  you  may  take  upon  my  word,  that  he'l  nere  do  so  again." 
Aota  Bene. — Square-braeketted  words  or  couplets  mark  restorations  of  early  text. 

The  Tombs  in  Westminster  Abbey.  269 

Sir  Bernard  Brockhurst  there  doth  lie,  Lord-Chamberlain  to  Queen  Ann, 

Queen  Ann  was  Richard  the  Second's  Queen,  and  he  was  king  of  England. 

Sir  Francis  Hollis,  the  Lady  Frances,  the  same  was  Suffolk's  Dutchess ; 

Two  children  of  Edward  the  Third,  lie  here  in  Death's  cold  clutches. 

[This  is  King  Edioard  the  Third's]  brother,  of  whom  our  records  tell 

Nothing  of  note,  nor  say  they  whether  he  be  in  Heaven  or  Hell ; 

This  same  was  John  of  Eldestone,  he  was  no  costermonger,  \_-=Ellham. 

But  Comical? s  Earl ;  and  here's  one  died  because  she  could  live  no  longer : 

[The  Lady  Mohun,  Dutchess  of  York,  and  Duke  of  York's  wife  also, 

But  Death  resolving  to  cuckold  the  Duke,  made  her  lie  with  him  here  below. 

The  Lady  Ross  !  but  wot  ye  well  that  she  in  childbed  dy'd ;  [Elis.,  1591. 

The  Lady  Marquess  of  Winchester  lies  buried  by  her  side.] 

Now  think  your  Penny  well  spent,  good  folks,  and  that  you're  not  beguiPd, 

Within  this  Cup  doth  lie  the  Heart  of  a  French  Embassador' s  Child; 

But  how  the  Devil  it  came  to  pass,2  on  purpose  or  by  chance, 

The  bowels  they  lie  underneath,  but  the  body  is  in  France. 

\_Dol. — "  I  warrant  ye  the  Pharisees  carried  it  away."] 

Here's  Oxford  Countess,  and  there  also  the  Lady  Burleigh  her  mother, 
And  there  her  daughter,  a  Countess  too,  lie  close  by  one  another  : 
These  once  were  bonny  Dames,  and  though  there  were  no  Coaches  then, 
Yet  cou'd  they  jog  their  tails  themselves,  or  had  them  jogged  by  the  men. 

[Dick. — "  Ho,  ho,  ho  !  I  warrant  ye, 

They  did  as  other  Women  did,  hey,  Ralph  ?  " 
Ralph.—"  Oy,  Oy  .'"] 

But  woe  is  me  !  those  high-born  sinners,  that  strutted  once  so  stoutly,3 
Tho'  living  they  never  pray'd  at  all,  yet  their  statues  pray  devoutly. 
[This  is  the  Dutchess  of  Somerset,  by  name  the  Lady  Ann, 
Her  Lord  was  Edward  the  Sixth's  Protector,  he  carried  himself  like  a  man  !] 

Tom. — "  I  have  heard  a  Ballad  of  him  sung  at  Ratclif  Cross." 
Mol. — "  I  believe  we  have  it  at  home  over  our  Kitchin  Mantle-Tree." 

This  fair  Monument  which  you  see,  I'd  have  you  to  understand, 
It  is  of  a  virtuous  lady  fair  who  died  of  a  prick  in  her  hand.4 

*J*  The  broadside  copy  is  poor  and  defective  of  "  The  Tombs  in  "Westminster 
Abbey  :  "  the  original  is  attributed  to  John  Phillips,  brother  of  Edward  Phillips 
(author  of  '  The  Mysteries  of  Love  and  Eloquence?  and  other  books),  nephews  of 
Milton.  It  is  shorn  of  all  the  prose  introduction  and  interlocutory  interruptions 
made  by  the  sight-seers,  in  the  manner  of  Ben  Jonson's  l  Bartholomew -Fair' 
citizens,  and  those  who  witness  '  The  Knight  of  the  Burning -Pestle'  of  Beaumont 
and  Fletcher.  Also,  half  of  its  text  is  omitted.  But  we  here  give  it  in  full,  and 
wish  the  appointed  vergers  at  the  present  day  were  superior  to  the  showman 
of  the  Tombs  in  1656.  We  have  heard  much  worse  at  Canterbury  Cathedral 
within  the  past  twenty  years.  The  manner  in  which  these  church-show- jobberies 
are  misconducted  and  turned  to  money-getting  has  long  been  scandalous.  Deans 
of  Westminster  and  elsewhere  should  have  amended  them.    Much  they  cared  ! 

2  Note.—  Original  text  is,  "Nor  can  I  tell  how  it  came  to  pass." 

3  Note. — The  early  reading  is,  "  But  woe  is  me  !  these  high-born  sinners  that 
wont  to  pray  so  stoutly,  Are  now  laid  low,  and  cause  they  can't,  their  Statutes 
(sic)  pray  devoutly."  This  was  bad  enough,  but  the  sentiment  was  too  charitable 
for  a  later  generation,  so  the  text  was  altered. 

4  Note. — Probably  one  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  Maids  of  Honour,  the  lady  whom 
Mrs.  Jarley's  waxwork  made  known  :  she  used  a  needle  wrongfully  on  a  Sunday. 

270  The  Tombs  in  Westminster  Abbey. 

In  this  fair  monument  which  you  see,  adorned  with  so  many  pillars, 

Doth  lie  the  Countess  of  Buckingham,  and  her  husband,  Sir  George  Villiers ; 

This  old  Sir  George  was  Grandfather,  and  the  Countess  she  was  Granny, 

To  the  great  Duke  of  Buckingham,  who  led  by  the  nose  King  Jamg.5 

Sir  Robert  Eatam,  a  Scotish  Knight,  this  man  was  Secretary, 

And  scribbled  compliments  for  two  Queens,  Queen  Ann  and  eke  Queen  Mary  ; 

[This  was  the  Countess  of  Lenox,  'yclept  the  Lady  Marget, 

King  James's  grandmother,  and  yet,  'gainst  Death  she  had  no  Target.] 

This  was  Queen  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  whom  Buchanan  doth  so  bespatter, 

She  lost  her  head  at  Fotheringham,  whatever  was  the  matter.       \_Fotheringay. 

[Dol.  —  "  How  came  she  here  then  ?  " 
Will.  — "  Why,  ye  silly  Oofe,  could  not  she  be  brought 
here  after  she  was  dead  ?  "] 

[The  Mother  of  our  seventh  Henry,  this  is  he  that  lyeth  hard  by, 
She  was  the  Countess,  wot  ye  well,  of  Richmond  and  of  Derby.] 
Henry  the  Seventh  himself  lies  here,  with  his  fair  Queen  beside  him, 
He  was  the  Founder  of  this  Chapel,  Oh  !  may  no  ill  betide  him  : 
[Therefore  his  Monument's  in  Brass,  you'l  say  that  very  much  is ; 
The  Duke  of  Richmond  and  Lenox,  there  lieth  with  his  Dutchess.] 

[Roger.  —  "  J  warrant  ye,  these  were  no  small  Fools  in  those  days  !  "] 

And  here  they  stand  upright  in  a  Press,  with  their  bodies  made  of  Wax  ; 
A  Globe  and  a  Wand  in  either  hand,  and  their  Robes  upon  their  backs. 
[Here  lies  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  and  the  Dutchess  his  Wife  ; 
Him  Feltnn  stabb'd  at  Portsmouth  Town,  and  so  he  lost  his  life. 
[Two  children  of  King  James  there  are,  whom  Death  keeps  very  chary, 
Sophia  in  the  cradle  lies,  and  this  is  the  Lady  Mary.] 

[Bess. — "Good  Woman,   pray   still  your  child!  it  keeps   such  a 
bawling,  we  can't  hear  what  the  man  says." 

[And  this  is  Queen  Elizabeth  !  How  the  Spaniards  did  infest  her  : 

Here  she  lies  Buried,  with  Queen  Mary,  and  now  she  agrees  with  her  Sister.] 

To  another  Chapel  now  come  we  (the  people  follow  and  chat)  : 
This  is  the  Lady  Cottington  {the  people  cry,  '  Who's  that  ?') 
[This  is  the  Lady  Frances  Sidney,  the  Countess  of  Suffolk  was  she  ; 
And  this  the  Lord  Dudley  Varleton  is  :   (and  then  they  look  up  and  see.)] 
Sir  Tho»i"s  Bromley  lieth  here  ;  Death  wou'd  not  him  reprieve  ;  [1587. 

With  his  four  sons  and  daughters  four,  that  once  were  all  alive. 
The  next  is  Sir  James  Fullerton,  and  that  is  his  Lady,  I  trow, 
And  that  is  Sir  John  Pickering,  whom  none  of  you  did  know.6 
That's  th'  Earl  of  Bridgewater  in  the  middle,  the  world  ne'r  saw  a  madder, 
His  Countess  fair  she  lies  beside  him.     And  now  you  go  up  a  ladder. 
[King  Edward  the  first,  that  gallant  Blade,  lies  underneath  this  stone, 
And  this  is  the  Chair  which  he  did  bring  a  good  while  ago  from  Scone. 

[Kate.  —  "  He  took  more  pains  than  L  would  ha'  done  for  a  hundred  such.''' 
Kale. — "  Gad,  L  warrant  there  has  been  many  a  Mayden  h'ad  got  i'  thai 

chair  !  " 
Tom. — "  Gad,  and  I'le  come  hether,  and  try  one  of  these  days,  an't  be  but 

to  get  a  Prince." 

[In  this  same  Chair  till  now  of  late  our  Kings  and  Queens  were  Crown'd ; 
Under  this  Chair  another  Stone  doth  lie  upon  the  ground. 

5  Note. — Original  text,  "  Often  fox'd  King  Jam  my  :  "  foxed  is,  made  drunk. 

6  Note. — Al.  led.,  "  Buckering,  with  his  fine  Bedfellow."     He  died  in  1596. 

The  Tombs  in  Westminster  Abbey.  271 

[On  that  same  Stone  did  Jacob  sleep,  instead  of  a  down  pillow, 
And  after  that,  'twas  hither  Drought  by  some  good  honest  Fellow.] 

[Dol. — "  A  Papish,  I  warrant  him."'} 

Richard  the  second  lies  here  entomh'd,  with  his  [first]  Queen,  Queen  Ann. 
Edward  the  third  lies  here  hard  by  ;  [Ah  !  there]  was  a  gallant  man  ! 
This  was  [his  two-handed  Sword,]  a  blade  both  true  and  trusty  ; 7 
The  Frenchmen 's  blood  was  ne'er  wiped  off,  which  makes  it  look  so  rusty. 
[He  lies  here  again,  with  his  Queen  Phihp,  a  Dutch  Woman  by  record, 
But  that's  all  one,  for  now,  alass  !  his  blade's  not  so  long  as  his  Sword. 
[King  Edward  the  Confessour  lies  within  this  Monument  fine. 

("  I' me  sure,''''  quoth  one,  "  a  worse  Tomb  must  serve  both  me  and  mine.'")} 
Harry  the  fifth  lies  here  entomb'd  with  his  fair  Queen,  Queen  Elenore, 
To  our  first  Edward  she  was  wife,  which  is  more  than  you  knew  before ; 
[Henry  the  Third  lies  there  entomb'd,  he  was  Herb-John  in  Pottage  ; 
Little  he  did,  but  still  raign'd  on,  although  his  Sons  were  at  age. 
[Fifty-six  years  he  raigned  King,  ere  he  the  Crown  would  lay  by, 
Only  we  praise  him  because  he  was  Last  Builder  of  this  Abbey. 
[Here  Thomas  Cecillies.     Who's  that  ?    Why  'tis  the  Earl  of  Exeter. 
And  this  his  Countess  is  ;  to  die,  how  sorely  it  perplexed  her. 
[Dol. — "Ay,  ay,  I  warrant  her,  Rich  folks  are  as  unwilling  to  die  as  poor  folks."} 
[Here  Henry  Gary  Lord  Hunsdon  rests. 

("  What  a  noise  he  makes  with  his  name.'1''') 
Lord  Chamberlain  was  he  unto  Queen  Elizabeth  of  great  fame. 

[Sisly. — "  That's  she  for  whom  our  Bells  ring  so  often,  is  it  not,  Mary  ?  " 

Mol. — "  Ay,  ay,  the  very  same." 
[And  here  one  William  Colchester  lies  of  a  certainty. 
An  Abbot  was  he  of  Westminster,  and  he  that  saith  No  doth  lie. 
[This  is  the  Bishop  of  Durham,  by  Death  here  layd  in  fetters  ; 
Henry  the  Seventh  loved  him  well,  and  made  him  write  his  Letters. 
[Sir  Thomas  Rut  hat,  what  of  him  ?     Poor  Gentleman,  not  a  word. 
Only  they  buried  him  here  ;  but  now  behold  that  man  with  a  Sword, 
[Humphrey  de  Bohun,  who  though  he  were  not  born  with  me  i'  the  same  Town, 
Yet  I  can  "tell  he  was  Earl  of  Essex,  of  Hertford,  and  A  orthamplon. 
[He  was  High  Constable  of  England,  as  History  well  expresses  ; 
But  now,  pretty  Maids,  be  of  good  chear,  we're  going  up  to  the  Presses. 
[(And  now  the  Presses  open  stand,  and  ye  see  them  all  arow  ; 
But  never  no  more  is  said  of  these  than  tvhat  is  writ  below.) 
[Htnry  the  Seventh  and  his  fair  Queen,  Edward  the  first  and  his  Queen.8 
Henry  the  fifth  here  stands  upright,  and  his  fair  Queen  was  this  Queen. 
[The  noble  Prince,  Prince  Henry,  King  James's  eldest  son. 
King  James,  Queen  Ann,  Queen  Elizabeth  :  and  so  the  chapel's  done.] 
(Now  dotvn  the  ladder  come  we  again,  the  man  goes  first  with  a  Staff, 
Perchance  one  tumbles  down  two  steps,  and  then  the  people  laugh.) 
[This  is  the  great  Sir  Francis  Vere,  that]  the  Spaniard's  hide  so  curried, 
Four  colonels  brave  support  his  Tomb,  and  here  his  body's  buried. 
That  statue  against  the  wall  with  one  eye,  is  Major-General  Norris, 
He  bang'd  the  [Spaniards']  cruelly,  as  is  affirm'd  in  stories. 

[Dick. — I  warrant  ye  he  had  two,  if  he  could  have  but  kept  'em."} 

i  Note. — The  broadside  reads,  for  the  populace,  "  This  is  the  sword  of  John 
of  Gaunt,"  and  omits  the  next  two  couplets;  but  the  sword  is  accredited  to 
Edward  III.  in  all  the  early  readings,  even  so  late  as  The  Convivial  Songster  of 
February,  1782,  and  the  mention  of  Edivard  Ill's  Queen  Philippa  proves  that 
no  change  of  person  was  intended. 

8  Note. — These  four  lines,  nearly  repetitive,  but  allude  to  the  wax- work  effigies. 

272  The  Tombs  in  Westminster  Abbey. 

[His  six  Sons  there  hard  hy  him  stand,  each  one  was  a  Commander, 

To  show  he  could  his  Lady  serve  as  well  as  the  Hollander. 

[And  there  doth  Sir  John  Rollis  rest,]  who  was  a  Major-General 

To  Sir  John  Norris,  that  brave  blade,  and  now  you  may  [go  to  Dinner]  all. 

For  now  the  Show  is  at  an  end,  all  things  are  done  and  said. 

The  Citizens  pay  for  their  Wives,  and  the  ' Prentices  kiss  the  Maid. 

["Written,  says  "Winstanley,  by  Edward  Phillips,  or 
by  John  Phillips,  nephews  of  Milton.] 

[No  Colophon.  In  White-letter,  with  one  little  woodcut  at  top,  of  a  tunic - 
coated  man,  a  street  ballad-singer.  Date  of  early  issue  was  in  or  before  1656, 
at  which  time  it  was  printed  in  John  Phillips's  Sportive  Wit ;  or,  Lusty  Drollery, 
p.  90.  It  reappeared  frequently  in  books,  but  we  know  of  no  other  broadside 
version  than  the  slovenly  white-letter  reprint  in  the  Roxburghe  Collection, 
which  omits  fifty-seven  lines,  (here  enclosed  within  our  square-brackets),  and 
gives  only  sixty  of  the  one  hundred  and  seventeen.  It  is  in  the  1682  edition  of 
Wit  and  Drollery,  p.  45,  but  not  in  those  of  1656  or  1661  ;  we  find  it  virtually 
unchanged  in  the  Pills  to  Purge  Melancholy,  v.  220,  with  the  prose  Induction 
and  the  side  notes  and  tune-name,  which  we  transfer  to  our  pages :  these  being 
deficient  from  the  Roxburghe  exemplar,  a  Bow  Church-yard  catchpenny,  for  the 
use  of  ballad-singers  who  pretended  to  be  free-masons.  The  tune  named  Old 
Souldiers  belongs  to  a  spirited  early  ballad  which  the  present  Editor  reprinted  in 
an  Appendix  to  the  Westminster  Drolleries,  ii.  24  ;  it  is  also  in  Wit  and  Drollery, 
1682,  p.  165 ;  with  music,  in  Pills,  v.  217  ;  and  Roberts's  Old  Ballads,  iii.  193, 
1725.     It  tells  of  Drake,  Cavendish,  Raleigh,  of  Norrises  and  Wenmans,  thus  :  — 

Of  old  Souldiers  the  song  you  would  hear, 
And  we  old  Fidlers  have  forgot  who  they  were  ; 
But  all  we  remember  shall  come  to  your  ear, 

That  we  are  old  Souldiers  of  the  Queen's, 

And  the  Queen's  old  Souldiers.  [18  stanzas. 

The  tune  is  the  same  as  that  of  The  old  Courtier  of  the  Queen,  and  the  King's 
New  Courtier  (a  Roxburghe  ballad  printed  in  our  vol.  vi.  pp.  756  to  759).  It  is 
probable  that  Edward  Phillips  or  his  brother  John  wrote  The  Old  Souldiers  also  : 
Milton's  austerity  caused  his  nephews  to  become  Royalists  and  concoctors  of 
Drolleries.    This  is  the  one  solitary  good  of  Puritanical  excess :  it  brings  a  reaction. 

€f>e  <$rcat  IBoobee. 


TREAT  was  the  popularity  of  this  ballad.  Many  editions  of  it  were  issued, 
the  earliest  before  the  Civil-Wars  began.  But  of  the  Sequel,  '  The  Citizen's 
Vindication,'  one  exemplar  alone  remains  known,  and  we  reprint  it  on  p.  275. 

The  cut  on  p.  273  (2nd  in  Roxb.  Coll.,  II.  228)  was  earlier  used  in  'A  New 
Dialogue  between  Dick  of  Kent  and  Wat  the  Welshman.'  By  Laurence  Price. 
Printed  for  John  Andrews  at  the  White  Lyon  in  the  Old  Baily ;  July  2,  1654. 
Used  again  for  "  Now  would  I  give  my  life  to  see,"  Monk,  (March  28,)  1660. 

At  the  end  of  second  stanza  is  an  allusion  to  the  old  style  of  Horn -Book  (of 
which  a  full  representation  is  given  as  frontispiece  to  J.  0.  Halliwell-Phillipps's 
Fugitive  Tracts  and  Chap-Books,  Percy  Society,  1849.  It  was  printed  about 
1570,  and,  beginning  with  a  Cross  and  the  Alphabet,  includes  the  baptismal 
formula  and  the  Lord's  Prayer.  Such  a  Horn-book  is  suggestively  held  aloft  by 
the  Cornuto  Cuckold  in  the  woodcut  on  p.  275. 


[Roxb.  Coll.,  III.  74,  228  ;  Pepys,  IV.  232  ;  Euing,  124  ;  Douce,  I.  92  ;  III.  35.] 

Ci)e  (threat  Boobee* 

To  a  pleasant  New  Tune  ;  or,  Sallenger's  Round.     [Pp.  170,  307.] 

MY  friend,  if  you  will  understand  my  fortunes  what  they  are, 
I  once  had  Cattel,  House,  and  Land,  but  no  w  I  am  never  the  near ; 
My  Father  left  a  good  estate,  as  I  may  tell  to  thee, 
I  couz'ned  was  of  all  I  had,  like  a  great  Boohee. 

I  went  to  School  with  a  good  intent,  and  for  to  learn  my  book, 

And  all  the  day  I  went  to  play,  in  it  I  never  did  look ; 

Full  seven  years,  or  very  nigh,  as  I  may  tell  to  thee, 

I  could  hardly  say  my  '  Christ-  Cross- Roiv,''  like  a  great  Boohee.       8 

My  father  then  in  all  the  haste,  did  set  me  to  the  Plow, 
And  for  to  lash  the  horse  about,  indeed,  I  knew  not  how ; 
My  father  took  his  "Whip  in  his  hand,  and  soundly  lashed  me, 
He  call'd  me  Fool  and  Country  Clown,  and  great  Boohee. 

But  I  did  from  my  Vather  run,  for  I  will  plow  no  more, 

Because  he  had  so  slashed  me,  and  made  my  sides  so  sore; 

But  I  will  go  to  London  town,  zorae  Vashions  for  to  see  ; 

"When  I  came  there,  they  call'd  me  Clown,  and  great  Boohee.         16 

But  as  I  went  along  the  street,  I  carried  my  Hat  in  my  hand, 
And  to  every  one  that  I  did  meet,  I  bravely  bus't  my  hand;      \-Kist 
Some  did  laugh,  and  some  did  scoff,  and  some  did  mock  at  me, 
And  some  did  say  I  was  a  Woodcock,  and  a  great  Boohee. 

VOL.    VII.  t 

274  The  Great  Boobee,  at  London  Town. 

Then  did  I  walk  in  hast[e]  to  Paul's,  the  Steeple  for  to  view, 
Because  I  heard  some  people  say,  it  should  be  builded  new  ;  [P.  277. 
Then  I  got  up  unto  the  top,  the  City  for  to  see : 
It  was  so  high  it  made  me  cry,  like  a  great  Boobee.  24 

2Tfte  Srconti  Part.    To  the  Same  Tune. 

From  thence  I  went  to  Westminster,  and  for  to  see  the  Tombs, 
"Oh,"  said  I,  "what  a  house  is  here,  with  an  infinite  sight  of  rooms! 
Sweetly  the  Abbey-Bells  did  ring,  it  was  a  fine  sight  to  see, 
Methought  I  was  going  to  Heaven  in  a  string,1  like  a  great  Boobee. 

But  as  I  went  along  the  street,  the  most  part  of  the  day, 

Many  Gallants  did  I  meet,  methought  they  were  very  gay  ; 

I  blew  my  nose,  and  [befoul'd]  my  hose,  some  people  did  me  see, 

They  said  I  was  '  a  Beastly  Fool,  and  a  great  Boobee.''  32 

Next  day  I  through  Pye-corner  past,  the  roast-meat  on  the  stall 
Invited  me  to  take  a  taste,  my  money  was  but  small : 
The  meat  I  pickt,  the  Cook  me  kickt,  as  I  may  tell  to  thee, 
He  beat  me  zore,  and  made  me  rore,  like  a  great  Boobee. 

As  I  through  Smithfield  lately  walkt,  a  gallant  Lass  I  met, 
Familiarly  with  me  she  talkt,  which  I  cannot  forget ; 
She  proffered  me  a  pint  of  Wine,  methought  she  was  wondrous  free, 
To  the  Tavern  then  I  went  with  her,  like  a  great  Boobee.  40 

She  told  me  we  were  near  of  kin,  and  call'd  for  Wine  good  store, 
Before  the  reckoning  was  brought  in,  my  Cousin  prov'd  a  Whore  : 
My  purse  she  pickt,  and  went  away,  my  Cousin  cozened  me, 
The  Vintner  kickt  me  out  of  door,  like  a  great  Boobee. 

At  the  Exchange,  when  T  came  there,  I  saw  most  gallant  things, 

I  thought  the  pictures  living  were  of  all  our  English  Kings ; 

I  doft  my  Hat,  and  made  a  leg,  and  kneeled  on  my  knee, 

The  people  laugh t,  and  call'd  me  Fool,  and  great  Boobee.  '  48 

To  Paris- Garden  then  I  went,  where  there  is  great  resort,      [p-  275- 
My  pleasure  was  my  punishment,  I  did  not  like  the  sport: 
The  Garden  Bull,  with  his  stout  horns,  on  high  then  tossed  me  ; 
I  did  bewray  my  self  with  fear,  like  a  great  Boobee. 

The  Bear-heard  went  to  save  me  then,  the  people  flockt  about, 
I  told  [all]  the  Bear-garden-men  my  guts  were  almost  out ; 
They  said  I  stunk  most  grievously,  no  man  would  pitty  me, 
They  call'd  me  witless  Fool  and  Ass,  and  great  Boobee.  56 

1  Going  to  Heaven  in  a  string  was  a  proverbial  expression,  meaning,  originally, 
in  a  crowd,  a  concourse  of  ascending  spirits ;  but  it  became  early  converted  into 
a  jocular  term  for  those  criminals  who  departed  this  life  literally  in  a  string,  or 
halter,  Jack  Ketch  helping  at  the  ascent  and  the  populace  enjoying  it.  Up  a 
long  ladder,  and  down  a  wee  tow  !     For  Westminster  Abbey  Tombs,  see  p.  268. 

The  Great  Boobee,  at  the  Little  Village  on  Thames. .   275 

Then  o're  the  "Water  did  I  pass,  as  j'ou  shall  understand, 
I  dropt  into  the  Thames,  alas  !  before  I  came  to  land  : 
The  Water-man  did  help  me  out,  and  thus  did  say  to  me, 
"  'Tis  not  thy  fortune  to  be  drown'd,  thou  great  Boobee !  " 

But  I  have  learned  so  much  wit,  shall  shorten  all  my  cares, 

If  I  can  but  a  Licence  get,  to  play  before  the  Bears  ; 

'Twill  be  a  gallant  place  indeed,  as  I  may  tell  to  thee, 

Then  who  dares  call  me  Fool  or  Ass,  or  great  Boobee  ?  64 

Printed  for  F.  Coles,  in  Wine-street,  on  Saffron-hill,  JTatton- Garden. 

[In  Black-letter.  One  woodcut,  given  on  p.  7.  Original  date,  before  1641  : 
since  in  the  Great  Rebellion  the  Long-Parliament  Puritans  suppressed  Paris- 
Garden  Bear-baiting,  and  theatres,  by  ordinances,  1641-1647.] 

Another  edition  of  "  The  Great  Boobee"  is  in  Euing  Coll.,  124,  and  Boxb. 
Coll.,  III.  228,  with  two  woodcuts :  1st,  the  one  given  in  vol.  vi.  p.  523  ;  the 
2nd  is  here  on  p.  273.  London,  Printed  for  R.I.  (Probably  Richard  Janeway, 
as  it  is  too  late  for  Richard  Jones,  who  stopped  at  1611.) 

***  "We  add,  on  p.  278,  an  important  sequel,  entitled  "  The  Citizen's  Vindi- 
cation," although  it  is  not  found  in  the  Boxburghe  Collection.  But  as,  by  the 
tune  of  Hey,  Boys,  up  go  we,  it  appears  to  belong  better  to  '  The  Downright 
Country-man'  than  to  the  '  Great  Boo/we'  (which  it  mentions  in  title),  we  add 
that  ballad  also  on  p.  276.  The  '  Citizen's  Vindication  '  has  five  cuts  :  1st,  the 
single-figure  man,  iv.  35  ;  2nd,  lady,  p.  70  ;  3rd,  milkmaid,  p.  168  ;  4th,  man 
with  burden,  vi.  352  ;  5th,  couple  holding  a  ring,  p.  125.     Date,  circa  1672-94.  j 

[This  woodcut,  mentioned  on  p.  272,  belongs  to  pp.  164  and  196.  The 
original  was  already  old  when  it  was  used  on  20  August,  1642,  as  frontispiece 
of  '  The  Resolution  of  the  Women  of  London  to  the  Parliament,  wherein  they 
declare  their  hot  zeale  in  sending  their  husbands  to  the  warres.1  A  label  crosses 
the  stick,  "  Go  to  the  Wars."] 


[Douce  Coll.,  I.  85  verso ;  Huth,  I.  80  ;  Jersey,  I.  158  ;  C.  22.  e.  2.  fol.  112.] 

tO)e  2Dotonrtgl)t  Countryman ; 

£)r,  tge  jtaitljftil  SDatrp  flpafo 

[B]ut  mind  how  Country  Lads  do  boast,  whilst  Londoners  are  blam'd, 
And  Country  Lasses  praised  most,  while  ours  are  Wags  proclaim' d. 
The  Tune  is,  Hey,  Boys,  up  go  we;  Or,  Busie  Fame.     [Cf.  pp.  278,  178.] 

I  Am  a  downright  Country-man,  both  faithful  [aye]  and  true, 
I'le  live  and  dye  so  if  I  can,  this  I  declare  to  you  :       \fext,lV 
I  study  as  I  am  at  Plow,  so  shun  all  false  deceit, 
And  you  may  plain  discover  now,  /  am  no  London  Cheat. 

Your  London  Cheats  do  go  most  fine,  like  Lords  in  their  attire, 
To  swill  their  guts  with  Spanish  Wine,  it  is  their  hearts'  desire  : 
But  it  is  very  common,  they  do  with  the  Vintners  meet, 
They'l  get  o'  th'  score,  then  run  away,  just  like  a  London  Cheat. 

They  oft  pretend  to  be  in  Love,  and  ready  for  to  dye, 
Yea,  vow  to  be  just  like  the  Dove,  but  know  no  Constancy ; 
Like  Villains  they  the  way  do  play,  with  every  Lass  they  meet; 
They  plump  them  up,  then  run  away,  this  is  a  London  Cheat.        12 

There  is  not  one  in  Twenty  but  he  wears  his  Sword  by  his  side, 
And  walks  with  many  an  empty  Gut,  and  ne'r  will  leave  his  Piide : 
But  when  his  brain  is  full  of  Wine,  he'l  stagger  in  the  street, 
And  then  picks  up  a  Concubine,  to  \_f~\ox  the  London  Cheat. 

Then  he  for  half  a  Crown  will  have,  that  which  may  make  him  rue, 
A  painted  [slave]  both  fine  and  brave,  perhaps  the  French-man  too  ; 
Tb us  he  with  his  unwholsome  flesh  will  be  most  brisk  and  sweet, 
But  see  him  once  out  of  his  dress,  he's  like  a  London  Cheat. 

But  London  City  oft  affords  Females  as  bad  as  Men, 

Who  though  they  Hector  with  their  swords,  there  is  not  one  in  ten 

But  has  some  pretty  little  Miss,  to  serve  him  at  his  need, 

And  every  minute  lends  a  Kiss,  this  is  a  \_quean~]  indeed.  24 

They'l  vow  for  ever  to  be  true,  to  them  they  do  affect, 
When  Honesty  is  bid  adieu  what  can  you  then  expect? 
No  faith  or  troth  is  minded,  when  fools  take  so  little  heed, 
For  who  so  often  cla[s]p  their  Men,  0  these  are  -whores  indeed. 

Let  honest  men  take  so  much  care,  that  do  inhabit  London, 
Of  such  false  Girls  to  have  a  care,  for  fear  they  may  be  undone : 
How  many  hundreds  may  be  spoyl'd,  if  they  do  not  take  heed  ; 
Thev  who  are  so  by  Girls  beguil'd,  do  meet  with  [Jades]  indeed. 

Why  then  give  me  the  Country  Lass,  who  honest  is  and  true, 
And  yet  may  kiss  upon  the  Grass,  but  nothing  farther  do : 
She  scorneth  that  her  [aimless]  deed  should  any  mischief  breed, 
She  takes  delight  in  what  is  right,  and  honest  is  indeed.  36 

The  Downright  Country-man. 

i  i 

See  by  the  colours  of  their  cheeks,  they  well  and  wholsome  are; 
While  London  Girls  look  green  as  Leeks,  the  Country  Girls  look  fair; 
Then  old  and  young,  I  pray  be  ware,  in  Marrying  take  good  heed, 
Least  you  be  brought  into  a  snare  by  cursedJades  indeed. 

See  how  the  Eose  and  Lilly  fair  upon  their  cheeks  do  grow, 
Mind  how  their  breath  perfumes  the  ayr,  wherever  they  do  go  ; 
And  what  they  touch  im[m]ediately  fresh  odours  on  them  breed : 
They  patterns  are  of  constancy,  rare  Country  Girls  indeed. 

Mind  but  the  Girl  that  milks  the  Cow,  how  sweetly  she  doth  sing, 
She  never  knits  an  angry  brow,  but  welcomes  in  the  Spring, 
And  then,  among  the  Butter  flowers,  she  trips  along  the  mead, 
To  pass  away  the  tedious  hours,  she's  fair  and  Chaste  indeed.  48 

Printed  for  P.  BrooJcsby,  at  the  Golden-Ball,  near  the  Hospital-  Gate, 

in  JVest-SmithJield. 

[In  Black-letter.     Five  woodcuts  :  1st  and  2nd  are  in  vol.  vi.  p.  22  ;  3rd  and 

4tk,  in  iii.  460  ;  5th,  is  a  lady  with  fan,  on  our  p.  285.   Date,  circa  1672-1680. 

Same  tune  and  publisher  as  next  ballad.] 

Paul's  Steeple  has  been  mentioned  on  p.  274  (line  21  of  '  The  Great  Boobee  ') : 
it  had  remained  in  its  dwarfed  condition  until  the  Great  Fire  of  1666,  having 
been  struck  by  lightning  in  1561,  and  the  woodwork  consumed  down  to  the  square 
stone  tower.  Motley  quotes  the  following  : — "  Old  Saint  Paul's  was  not  a  very 
magnificent  edifice,  but  it  was  an  extremely  large  one,  for  it  was  720  feet  long, 
130  broad,  and  had  a  massive  quadrangular  tower  260  feet  high.  Upon  this 
tower  had  stood  a  timber  steeple,  rising  to  a  height  of  534  feet  from  the  ground, 
hut  it  had  been  struck  by  lightning  in  the  year  1561,  and  consumed  to  the  stone- 
work." (Quoted  from  Emanuel  van  Meteren's  Nederlandsche  Historieu,  xiii.  243, 
in  Motley's  United  Netherlands,  vol.  i.  p.  311.)     See  also  Camden  Soc,  xxvi. 

%*  Another  spirited  defence  of  country  life,  of  rustic  lads  and  lasses,  is  added 
(extra)  on  p.  284,  '  The  Merry  Plow-man  and  Loving  Milkmaid.'  But  the 
Town- wits  at  the  same  date,  circa.  1683,  sang  to  a  different  tune,  as  in  'The 
Londoner's  Answer  to  Downright  Dick  of  the  West '  (pp.  278,  282),  and  thus  : — 

"    A  Dieu  to  the  Curse  of  a  Country  Life  ! 

XX     Too  long  I  have  prov'd  it,  and  found  it  a  thief : 
To  a  soul  that  would  be  unconfin'd,  brisk  and  free, 
'  Tis  a  cruel  and  insupportable  grief. 

"  Let  Country  Sots  boast  of  their  empty  delights, 
The  City  and  Court  yet  my  Fancy  invites  : 
And  more  pleasure  yields  than  the  naked  fields, 
"Which  with  nothing  but  threats  the  genius  affrights. 

' '  Then  give  me  the  pleasure,  Omnipotent  Fate, 
That  now  I  enjoy,  though  at  ne'er  such  a  rate  : 
For  the  dull  Country  Life,  suiting  only  a  Wife, 
I  much  more  than  old  Age  and  Impotence  hate." 

— Choyce  Ayres,  iii.  10,  1681.     Music  by  James  Hart, 


[Douce  Collection,  I.  45  verso.     Apparently  Unique.] 

Cbe  Citizen's  Wntucation, 

£tpmst  tfje  Potonn'stlt  Countrgman  (alias  Boobce). 

let  Eusticks  spit  their  venom  still  against  the  Dames  of  London, 
At  last  they  by  their  folly  will  for  want  of  wit  be  undone. 

[To  the]  Tune  of  Hey,  boys,  vp  go  we.     [See  Note,  p.  285.] 

WHat  silly  senseless  Country  Clown  has  put  this  wit  in  print  ? 
To  abuse  the  Dames  of  London  Town,  though  there  is  nothing  in  't : 
Only  to  show  his  apishness,  and  prove  himself  an  Ass, 
For  all  men  know  where  e're  they  go  there's  none  like  a  London  Lass.  4 

Yet  every  Plow-boy  now-a-days  most  sawcily  will  prate, 

And  set  forth  Doll's  and  Molly's  praise,  hatcht  in  his  noddle  pate : 

Through  England,  Scotland,  France,  and  Spain,  or  wheresoe're  you  pass, 

You'l  rind  all  Noddys  that  disdain  the  gentile  London  Lass.  [sic.     8 

See  how  their  Cloathes  do  fit  in  print,  and  mind  Joan's  draggle-tayle, 

See  how  she  like  a  Puss  doth  squint,  crown'd  with  her  Milking-paile  :  [p.  168. 

Or,  if  you  mind  how  she  doth  splay  as  she  goes  through  the  Grass, 

You  then  without  all  doubt  will  say,  give  me  the  London  Lass  !  12 

If  you  but  walk  to  the  Exchange,  there  you  may  Creatures  see, 

That  to  the  Bumkins  may  seem  strange,  they'r  Nature's  rarity. 

Such  in  the  countries  there  are  none,  then  blame  that  simple  Ass, 

Whose  folly  needs  he  must  make  known,  to  blame  the  London  Lass.  16 

A  Citizen  an  Angel  seems  that  in  the  Countrey  goes, 

All  men  their  Company  esteems  that  any  breeding  knows  : 

While  Tom  and  Robin  stands  and  stares  to  see  them  as  they  pass  ; 

For  in  this  Land  there's  none  compares  with  a  brisk  London  Lass.  20 

Besides,  the  bonny  City  Lads  like  Gentlemen  do  go, 

While  countrey  Bumkins  ride  on  Pads,  say  nothing  but  gee  ho  ! 

Instead  of  Leather-bottles,  they  to  th'  Tavern  post  with  speed,  [Of.  vi.  470. 

And  merrily  pass  the  time  away  :  these  are  brave  boys  indeed  !  24 

While  Citizens  in  Coaches  ride,  the  Bumkin  rides  in  's  Cart, 

And  there  he  sits  puffed  up  with  Pride,  though  he's  not  worth  a  f  .   .  ., 

And  if  he  to  a  pudding  gets,  he  Farmer-like  doth  feed, 

While  London  Lads  live  by  their  wits,  like  Gentlemen  indeed.  28 

A  Whip  must  serve  a  Countrey  Clown,  instead  of  Belt  and  Sword, 

He  whistling  passes  through  the  Town,  and  thinks  himself  a  Lord. 

Whilst  London  boys,  when  they  do  meet,  full  quickly  are  agreed 

To  drink  a  Glass  of  Wine  that's  neat :  these  are  brave  boys  indeed  !  32 

Tis  true,  we  have  some  Cracks  i'  th'  Town,  perhaps  have  had  a  Beam,    [p.  285. 

By  some  lascivious  Country  clown  [who]  no  danger  could  discern ; 

And  then  they  up  to  London  come,  more  bastards  for  to  breed, 

Perhaps  they  have  deluded  some,  the  worst  of  men  indeed.  36 

Match  but  a  Bum[p]kin  to  a  man,  or  Juggs  to  London  Lasses  ; 

And  then  distinguish,  if  you  can,  how  Londoners  surpasses : 

The  Bustick  bore  that  knows  not  how  for  to  repeat  his  Creed, 

Knows  nothing  more  than  drive  the  Plow,  a  gentile  Curr  indeed  !  40 

Printed  for  P.  Brooksby,  at  the  Golden-Ball,  in  West  Smithfield. 
[In  Black-letter.     Five  woodcuts  :  See  Note,  p.  275.     Date,  circa  1672-80.] 


[Roxburghe  Coll.,  II.  430 ;  Tepys,  III.  254  ;  Hutli,  II.  90  ;  Jersey,  I.  68.] 

%\)t  £>orrotofut  €itwn ; 

%§t  (Courngiou0  plowman. 
Mitf)  tf}t  Mittp  an0toa  of  a  Cotmttp  SDamogeL 

You  Citizens  I  pray  beware,  that  does  this  story  hear  : 

Dote  not  too  much  on  Beauty  fair,  lest  this  may  prove  your  snare. 

To  the  Tune  of,  The  Country  Farmer.     [See  note,  p.  152.] 

This  may  be  Printed,  R[ichard]  P[ocock]. 






k^^-      w/llnvi    **^v^Sft  ^41/fPj^. 



^f  v  ^53   w. 




A     Londoner  into  the  Country  went, 
To  visit  his  tennants,  and  gather  in  rent ; 
He  on  a  brave  gelding  did  gallantly  ride, 
With  boots  and  with  spurs,  and  a  sword  by  his  side. 
Because  that  the  Inn-keepers  they  will  not  score, 
He  lined  his  pockets  with  silver  good  store : 
And  he  wore  a  Wigg  cost  three  guinnies  and  more, 
His  hat  was  cockt  up,  Sir,  behind  and  before. 
Thus  like  a  great  Gallant  that  was  A-la-mode, 
Upon  his  stout  gelding  he  gallopt  the  road ; 
He  came  to  an  Inn,  Sir,  where  he  did  alight, 
Eesolviug  to  rest  there,  and  tarry  all  night : 

280  The  Sorroicful  Citizen. 

There  was  a  fair  Damoscl,  her  name  it  was  Rriss  ;     [rrisciiia. 
The  Londoner  proffer' d  to  give  her  a  kiss, 
And  would  fain  have  been  doing  the  thing  you  may  guess, 
But  she  scornfully  said  she  was  "no  London  Miss."  16 

"With  eloquent  speeches  this  Gallant  did  wooe, 
And  proffer' d  her  guinnies,  but  this  would  not  do  ; 
"  I  pray  you  be  civil,  good  Sir !  "   she  reply'd, 
"  And  tempt  me  no  more,  for  you  must  be  deny'd  : 
My  credit,  I  tell  you,  I  never  will  stain, 
And  therefore,  good  Sir,  I  would  have  you  refrain 
To  proffer  your  guinnies,  for  all  is  in  vain, 
1  slight  them  and  you,  Sir,  with  scorn  and  disdain.  24 

"  Good  Sir,  what  a  rout  and  a  racket  you  make; 
Would  Robin  the  Plow-man  was  here  for  your  sake  ! 
He  will  quickly  make  you  to  alter  your  note, 
I  would  not  be  one  that  should  be  in  your  coat ; 
For  all  your  brave  alls,  you  are  something  too  bold,:tc/'  P-  26® 
My  Chastity  is  not  to  be  bought  nor  sold  ; 
I  care  not  a  fig  for  your  silver  and  gold, 
I  pray  you  be  civil,  and  let  go  your  hold."  32 

''  Why,  do  you  imagine  I  will  be  afraid 
Of  such  a  coarse  coxcombly  Country  Blade  ? 
For  should  he  come  in,  and  give  me  a  cross  word, 
I'le  make  him  to  taste  of  a  piece  of  my  sword : 
For  I  am  a  person  of  noble  degree, 
Then  prithee,  sweet  Damsel,  be  ruled  by  me  ; 
He  dare  not  come  in,  if  he  chance  but  to  see 
That  I  am  a  kissing  and  courting  of  thee."  40 

"  Cot-zo  !  "  quoth  the  maiden,  "  pray  who  have  we  here  ? 
Or  what  is  the  cause  that  he  should  stand  in  fear  ?  " 
Before  that  the  Maiden  could  say  any  more, 
Stout  Robin  himself  he  came  in  at  the  door; 
To  him  the  whole  story  she  did  declare, 
The  Londoner  being  amazed,  did  stare  ; 
He  would  have  been  hid,  but  he  could  not  tell  where, 
For  he  was  catcht  napping  as  Moss  catcht  his  mare.*£See  p-  28L 

"  The  point  of  your  sword,  Sir,  you  said  I  should  taste  ; 
But  first,  let  me  tell  you,  your  shoulders  I'le  baste." 
With  that,  he  lent  him  a  sturdy  stout  stroke, 
His  sword  and  his  noddle  together  he  broke. 

"  Tho'  I  go  in  leather,  and  you  wear  fine  close,  L-doathea 

I  will  have  my  True-love  in  spight  of  your  nose." 
And  then  he  laid  on,  and  redoubled  his  blows; 
Ten  guinnies  to  Robin  the  Plow-man  he  throws.  56 

The  Sorrowful  Citizen.  281 

"  Forbear,  honest  Plow-man,  for  I  do  protest, 
"What  eve